


Unsinkable

by HostilePoet17



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 16:43:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4794791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostilePoet17/pseuds/HostilePoet17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In April 1912, Helen sets out to visit a friend, only to have the journey end in disaster. Here is the aftermath. [Teslen]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this is in character enough for you guys - considerations being made to the speech and attitudes of the era, of course. Also, I think Tesla would be a lot nicer to anyone helping him out when Helen's in trouble, she's his weak spot. And this is before the sixty year gap in their friendship, which I think probably made them both a lot harder as people.
> 
> Lots of research into actual Nikola Tesla, 20th century society and the aftermath of the Titanic has gone into this, I hope it's all accurate enough, let me know if there are any issues (I suck suck suck at history).
> 
> Oh also, a certain concierge maaaay have been modelled after a certain butler from Agent Carter. May have. ;)
> 
> Enjoy. More to be posted as I get around to writing it! :)

_9 th April 1912_

_Darling Nikola,_

_Valiant try in your last letter, but your attempts to sway me from my intended travels have failed, I am afraid. In fact, I would say they have bolstered my resolve even more so! I am surprised at you, dear, I thought you knew me better than to be displaced so easily – I was under the belief that you found my determination to be one of my fairer traits, is that not what you wrote me last summer?  Honestly, dear friend, I fail to see what the fuss is. I thought you of all people would understand the vast importance of this journey, the excitement! The maiden voyage of the largest ship ever created? I am positively thrilled at the prospect. Really, Niko, you must overcome your aversion of anything that wasn’t made by you. Yes, you are a wonderful inventor, and I do love the marvellous fruits of your excellent mind, but really, I could not possibly strive to abstain from anything that hasn’t been made by you. Perhaps this may be a good opportunity for you to exercise a little restraint in your contempt for other men’s creations. And I myself shall endeavour not to sing the great ship’s praises too frequently or too loudly once I have arrived at your side._

_Which brings me to another point of contention I have with your unflinching attempts to dissuade my travels – my darling, I hope I am not to assume that you do not wish to see me? I undertake this journey with the sole intention of reuniting with my dear, and rather elusive, friend. While I treasure you letters most sincerely, as full of genius and biting wit as they may be, I do miss the flesh and blood of you very much so. Is it too much to want the opportunity to share a dinner and relish a wonderful conversation with my old friend, whom I have not seen this past decade (which I am very cross about, you should know. Honestly, Niko, is it so difficult to visit me?), and have very much missed? There is only one reason I am travelling all the way to New York City, and I would have thought our agendas aligned, but, alas, if you are so intent on keeping me away…_

_Regardless of your protests, there was an accident regarding one of your clever little devices, and it no longer seems to be working. Dearest James has slaved over the thing for hours, trying to determine its mechanisms and answers, but to no avail. You can picture how infuriated he was, can’t you? Sometimes, I swear, you design these little beauties with an added intention of confusing our dear friend. I know you do it purposefully, Nikola. You always did love to rile the poor man up. With this in mind, I am bringing it along in the vain hope that you will repair it for us, and possibly give me an indication of how to solve any similar problems that may arise with it in the future._

_I shall keep my letter short today, as I must prepare for my journey. And of course, what need are written words when I shall see you so very soon! There will be no need for you to reply, I shall be on the Titanic halfway to meet you, so any written correspondence shall miss me. You may save whatever it is you intended to write, and instead speak it to my face. I shall expect to see your own lovely face awaiting me at twelve noon on the 20 th! Don’t you dare be late, darling. I am ecstatic at the thought of seeing you, and you had better have an excellent bottle of wine and warm embrace waiting for me at the other side!_

_Until then, my dear friend._

_H.M._

Nikola smiled at the letter once more, setting it down on the table, glancing back at the chaos before him. It was altogether too distracting to attempt any work with the sweet words of one Dr Helen Magnus laid out beside him. He had all too often joked that there were only two things in the world of which he was singularly fascinated with: The first, and most obvious, being his work. But the second was the magnificent blonde from Camden who had unintentionally hoarded a great deal of his attention since their first encounter forty years before.

Oh, how was one expected to work with the blossoming prospect of Helen arriving in New York in a matter of days? Of course, he had attempted to dissuade her travels, not fancying the notion of his dear companion being one of the White Star Line’s test subjects on their latest oceanic endeavours. But reading her excited words had pushed aside his worries, and instead, anticipation performed somersaults in his stomach. By the week’s end, Helen Magnus would be right there! In New York! With him!

The giddy joy that was sweeping through him could not even be dampened by the thoughts of having to attend Marconi’s damned lecture later in the day. No, nothing could possibly defeat the thrill of seeing his dear friend once more.

A knock at his door startled his attention away, and with a sigh, he got to his feet and crossed the room to answer his caller. Perhaps Marconi had cancelled the damn thing. Or, perhaps, by a feat of her usual determination and brilliance, Helen had arrived five days earlier than planned. That set a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. Pulling open the door, he was met with a young bellhop.

“Mr Tesla, sir, you’ve received a telegram.”

Accepting the proffered slip of paper, Nikola nodded his thanks, shutting himself back into his room. Six years on from his admittance of failure, would he ever cease to feel a sting of bitterness when having to receive communications via this method?

Unfolding the damned thing, he read through it, heart thudding to a complete stop.

PROBLEM WITH TITANIC. SPECIFICS UNKNOWN. SERIOUS ENOUGH TO NEED HELP. SHIPS SENT TO FETCH HER. PLEASE LOCATE HELEN AND INFORM ME OF NEWS POSTHASTE. JAMES.

Swallowing, Nikola leant backwards, bracing his weight against the door. He took a steadying breath, clutching the telegram tight in his fingers. Helen was aboard a ship in peril. Something had gone wrong…

Staggering forward into action, he seized his coat from where it lay draped over a nearby chair, and tugged it on. Throwing open the door, he rushed down the hallway, opting for the quicker route of the service stairwell rather than caging him into the deliberate and unhurried elevator. Faster and faster, he hurtled down the stairs, floor after floor. Reaching the ground floor, he brushed past a maid, bursting through the side door into the opulent lobby. His hurried feet found him dashing over to the concierge’s desk.

“Edwin! Dammit, Edwin!” He yelled, summoning the patron of said desk, who appeared from the left, looking rather flustered at the panicked demeanour of Mr Tesla.

“Whatever is the matter, sir?”

“The Titanic,” Nikola panted out, waving his crumpled telegram in the air. “Is it true? What happened?”

Edwin glanced over at other members of the staff, who, Nikola now registered, were huddled around the telegraph, faces ashen. “I’m afraid so, sir. She ran into trouble late last night, by all accounts.”

Nikola bit back a groan, pushing a hand through his hair. “Damn it, damn it, _damn it_! Here, let me use that thing!” He called over to the group of serving staff, vaulting himself up over Edwin’s desk to join them.

“Oh dear, sir! Mr Tesla, I am afraid that hotel guests are not permitted to be in that area –”

But Nikola ignored him, frantically stabbing at the buttons, sending out messages for news. The staff were eyeing him warily, all too familiar with the eccentricities of Mr Tesla, the genius in room 369.

“What’s the status of the ship?” He asked, glancing up at a man he recognised as Sean, one of the waiters.

“According to the most recent report, she’s being towed ashore by the SS Virginian, sir.”

He nodded dazedly back, murmuring his thanks. That still left an abundance of questions to be answered. Why was it being towed? Was it merely a mechanical problem? Was the ship stationary and unable to propel itself through the unforgiving waters of the Atlantic? Was there an issue with the crew, rendering them unable to man the ship back to shore themselves? Or was there a more insidious reason? A tear in the hull that would make their return impossible if not aided by another?

He swallowed, trying not to concentrate the latter options, and desperately hoped it was some idiotic mechanical flaw. Perhaps he could later laugh at the follies of his peers, perhaps he could later shoot Helen a smug grin, and chide “ _I told you so_ ”.

Edwin was watching him nervously. “Sir, I’m afraid you’re not permitted to be back here.”

“Please, I just need to be near the telegraph. I never bothered to acquire one for my own room. I need to know what’s happening. My friend… Helen…” swallowing once more, he looked away. “I’d appreciate it if I could be nearby, to hear any news.”

The concierge paused for a beat, before nodding. “Very well, sir. But perhaps you could use it in the back room. I’m afraid we can’t have guests lingering at the other side of the desk.”

“Thank you, Edwin. I appreciate it.”

“Of course, sir. And perhaps, you could let us know of any developments.”

“Will do,” he replied, grabbing the machine and rushing into the little room behind the concierge’s station.

And a few hours later saw him rushing out, face pale and frightened as he dashed away, back towards the stairwell.

Bewildered, Edwin glanced down at the most recent outgoing telegram and paled.

“What happened?” Asked one of the maids.

Clearing his throat, he read aloud:

TITANIC SANK. CARPATHIA HAS SURVIVORS. MOST ABOARD PERISHED. WHEREABOUTS OF HELEN UNKNOWN. WILL REPLY WITH MORE INFORMATION WHEN AVAILABLE. NIKOLA.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actual Teslen dialogue, yaaaaay. They're the most fun to write. THAT BANTER between them always delights me.
> 
> Also, yes, there may be two teensy shout-outs to Stargate SG-1. Fairly easy to spot, I'd say. :D
> 
> Enjoy. More to come soon. :)

Nikola sat on his bed, staring vacantly into space. In his hands, he cradled his recently received letter, Helen’s excited words prior to her journey did little to comfort him, and now twisted sickeningly around him.

He had not heard one scrap of news about her, what with the hundreds of people clamouring to know the fate of others aboard. But didn’t any of them realise how important Helen was, how remarkable and brilliant she was? The silence regarding her whereabouts frightened him more than he could possibly voice, so he sat on his bed, and tried to draw breath through the terrifying tightness in his throat.

A loud rapping on the door had him stumbling to his feet, the door flung over to reveal Oliver, the bellboy.

“What news?”

“She’s coming in now, Mr Tesla. The Carpathia’s sailing in!”

Those frantic words were the catalyst to send Nikola into a flurry of motion. “Good man! Could you have a motorcar arranged to take me there?”

“Already done, sir. Walter’ll be waiting for you out front.”

“Excellent, excellent!” He threw his coat on, neatly folding his prized letter into its pocket, before grabbing a woollen scarf to throw around his neck. Following the server, they sprinted down the stairs, and Nikola dashed out the doors, towards the waiting car.

The drive to the dock took altogether too long, and upon arrival, he jumped out of the car, racing towards the growing crowd. Despite the rain misting about them, thousands milled around the quayside, anxiously awaiting the ship that was looming in the distance. All time seemed to melt away until seconds passed like hours, and Nikola fought the urge to dive into the dark waters and swim over to the ship, just to reach her sooner.

As the great ship docked, dread threatened to overwhelm him, and Nikola found himself stifling dry sobs at the terror that it would not hold his dearest friend.

And all at once, the survivors began to trickle into view, some being guided down the gangway by other passengers or crewmembers. Too many golden-haired heads set his heart racing, only to realise it was not her. The dense crowd of people waiting was pushing forward, and Nikola felt himself being smothered in the thick air of anticipation. Hands were everywhere, everyone trying to reach out, trying to push through the crowd to find their loved ones. Distantly up ahead, he could hear delighted cries of reunion, and the occasional wail of grief punctuating the spaces where the news of a demise had reached the ears of the waiting.

The crowd was fluid, its persons moving as one, surging forward to reach its destination, parting to allow the reunited to push through its massive bulk. Nikola found himself reaching the peak of Pier 54, the leviathan ship looming above, casting its shadow over him. He could see the survivors now, his eyes roved over them, searching, searching…

“ _Helen_!” His voice was strangled, alien, but who gave a damn, because there she was. Clutching a navy blanket around her shoulders, her face was bloodless and her hair bedraggled, but she was before him, breathing and solid. “HELEN!”

He pushed forward, and not a person stopped him, the crowd parted like the biblical sea, and he hurried forward, uncaring of how very much like a madman he may have looked.

“ _HELEN_!”

She started, her head snapping up and eyes focusing, scanning the assembly for the source of her summons.

“ _HELEN_!”

He saw her lips moving, almost dreamlike, saw her whisper his name in disbelief, her eyes still roving the crowd. He was breaching the front of the waiting crowd now, surging towards her. Towards Helen. Helen, oh, Helen.

Her eyes alighted on his, and time fell away completely as he crashed into her, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her up and into him. He did not care that he was sobbing into her neck, her soft delicate neck, the neck that always smelled of lavender and had the most charming little freckle on the left side. He barely registered how desperately his hands were clutching her to him, how his fingers were surely gripping her too hard.

All that mattered was that she was alive. Helen Magnus was alive, and in his arms.

Her breathing sputtered, and she was sobbing too, her own hands grasping at his coat like a lifeline.

Nikola pulled back to face her, his eyes drinking in the very sight of her. He cupped a hand against her cheek. “Hello,” he croaked.

Surprisingly, she let out an astonished laugh, “Hello!” before her voice caught on a sob. “Oh god, Nikola. I never thought I’d see you again.”

He pulled her back into his arms, lips brushing her forehead. “Neither did I. God, Helen.” He swallowed, rubbing his hand along her back. “Let’s get you somewhere warmer,” he offered, frowning at the rain falling heavy now from the darkening sky.

She nodded numbly, letting him pull her through the crowd, tucked protectively into his side. He led her away from the pier, back to where Walter awaited with the hotel’s motorcar. Opening the door, he tugged the dark blanket from her shoulders, and tossed it inside. “Here,” he shucked off his thick winter coat, slipping it onto her trembling frame. “Brought this,” he murmured, wrapping his scarf around her neck, tucking it snugly against her chilled skin. “Figured you could use it.”

Her answering smile was weak, and she let him guide her into the car, watching as he settled onto the rich leather seat beside her. Immediately, his arms wound around her, pulling her tight against him. Helen let her eyes fall shut, happy to pass the journey with no words and his body heat warming her up.

Their arrival at the hotel was a quiet affair, and Nikola hurried them inside, Helen cradled at his side. As they passed the concierge desk, he spotted a few members of staff who had waited anxiously for news of his friend by his side for the past three days. Guiding Helen towards them, he nodded at Edwin. “Could you please send a telegram to my correspondent in London and let him know that Helen Magnus has arrived safely in New York, and that I will contact him myself later.”

“Yes, sir. And may I say, on behalf of all of us, that we’re delighted Miss Magnus has been found safe and well, and we extend our warmest welcome to her.”

Nikola nodded his thanks, and led them over to the elevator, where Oliver was already waiting for them. Once inside, Nikola leaned back against the gilded wall, letting Helen’s weight rest on him, his hands moving in slow, soothing circles on her back. What surprised him is that she let him, that she willingly rested against him, eyes shut, in a public place, for all to see. Helen Magnus was not a creature who ever let weakness show, if she could help it. The thought that the final straw had snapped out there in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean was terrifying.

An elderly couple bustled into the elevator after them, the gentleman sending a polite nod, the woman a courteous smile.

“Your floor, sir?” Oliver asked.

“Fifth floor, if you will,” the older gentleman replied.

Oliver nodded, pulling the doors and grating shut.

“Awful, awful stuff with that Titanic business, don’t you think?” The older man began, nodding at Nikola. “I heard they’ve brought the passengers back today, what’s left of them anyway! Goodness, it’s dreadful news. You know, my wife and I have dined with Mr Ismay, the White Star Line chairman, we do hope the old chap has pulled through. Horrible, horrible news. Can you imagine what it must have been like for them?”

Nikola had tensed, and ignored the man, hugging Helen closer. She said nothing, but he felt her fingers gripping the material of his jacket even tighter than before.

Unperturbed by the others’ behaviour, the gentleman’s wife chimed in, making a soft clucking noise. “Oh, but _imagine_ how cold that water must be! I’d say their chances would have been better had they not filled up with so many passengers! Honestly, what _were_ they thinking? A luxury liner isn’t made to cart over immigrants in abundance. Mark my words, it will turn out that that’s what really sank that ship.”

Her husband hummed in agreement. “Quite right, my dear. All this nonsense about great bergs of ice? How on earth could one have missed such a beast?”

“It _was_ an iceberg,” Helen suddenly whispered, drawing all the attention of the elevator’s occupants towards her.

“Beg your pardon, miss?”

She raised her head, eyeing the older couple. “An iceberg ripped through the outer hull of the ship, tearing holes through it. From the upper deck, you could hear the metal screeching, and feel the ship shake beneath your feet. There is absolutely no doubt that it was an iceberg that sank the Titanic.”

The couple suddenly noted Helen’s bedraggled appearance, the way Nikola had wrapped her up, close to his chest, and they both paled.

“Oh, good lord, you were aboard!” The man cried.

Shutting her eyes, Helen merely turned back to press her face against Nikola’s shoulder, her back to the horrified couple. He curled his arms around her waist, pulling her tighter to him, before pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

“Good heavens, I’m so sorry,” the woman whispered.

Nikola was beyond grateful as they arrived at the third floor, and a relieved Oliver let them out. As he led Helen out of the elevator, he glanced back at the couple.

“Just an extra thought for your consideration – perhaps you should remember your very obvious British roots if those accents are anything to go by, and in future not seek to blame “immigrants” for every passing tragedy. It does have a rather hypocritical reek, don’t you think?” He smiled at the bellboy. “Thank you for your assistance today, Oliver.”

“Happy to be of help, Mr Tesla, sir.”

Refocusing on Helen, he directed her towards his room. “Come, darling. I imagine a roaring fire and a glass of my finest whiskey are in order.”

They stepped into his suite, and were greeted by a welcoming blast of heat. In his absence, the hotel staff had lit a blazing fire in the grate, and Nikola felt a warm stir of gratitude towards them. They had gone above and beyond for him those past few days as he sought the fate of his dear friend.

Helping Helen to shuck off his heavy overcoat and scarf, he guided her to an armchair in front of the fireplace. She sank into gratefully, falling back into the softness of it. Dropping to his knees before her, he began unbuttoning her delicate boots, tugging them gently from her feet. She shot him a small, weary smile as he gave her stockinged feet a brisk rub, trying to bring some warmth back into her toes.

“Will you object very much, Helen, if I was to undress you?”

Her smile now held the ghost of her usual wryness. “My, Nikola, that’s possibly the politest way you’ve ever approached the situation.”

His hand squeezed her knee affectionately. “Fear not, darling, your honour shall remain intact tonight. I thought you might appreciate a change of clothing after your journey.”

“That would be wonderful,” she replied quietly. “This is all I’ve had for the last three days.”

“They never offered you something else to wear?”

“They did, but unfortunately, I’ve been rather ill up until yesterday.” She gave a tight smile at his questioning glance. “A nasty bout of hypothermia, I’m afraid.”

His hand reached up and clasped one of hers. “How nasty?”

“Nasty enough,” was all she offered, giving his hand a squeeze.

He let the matter drop, knowing better than to push her right then. “Right,” letting go of hers, his hands fell to her stockings. “Let’s get you out of these.”

She sat back in the chair, watching him as he gently rolled her stockings down, exposing her pale legs to the warmth of the fire. He set the removed garments out on a footstool, smoothing them out gently, which elicited a small smile from her.

Catching her fond gaze, Nikola mirrored it, moving to unbutton the front of her dress. He noted the roughened texture of the beautiful lilac dress underneath his fingers, where once it was fresh and untouched by saltwater. Slowly, he slipped each pearled button from its home, opening the dress up.  Getting to his feet, he pulled her up with him. His hands went to her shoulders, easing her arms out of the dress, freeing her. As they stood, the dress pooled to the ground between them.

“Usually we’d be well into a bottle of wine by this point,” Helen murmured absentmindedly, watching the light of the fire flicker across the planes of his suit.

“I have a rather lovely Pinot Noir tucked away, should you want some,” he offered, helping her step out of the bottom of the dress, taking it aside to drape over the footstool.

Helen shrugged, brushing at the goose bumps along her upper arms. “It’s quite alright. It’s hardly the appropriate occasion to waste such a lovely drink.”

He regarded her carefully, standing on the thick carpet clad only in her petticoat and undergarments. “I believe that finding you safe and sound is cause for celebration.”

“Well, when over a thousand people have just perished at sea, one tends to be rather hesitant about celebrating.”

Nikola swore under his breath, looking away. “God, Helen, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

She cast him a sad smile. “I know, darling. It’s just…difficult to feel optimistic about anything right now.”

He leaned towards her, brushing a kiss against her forehead, not knowing what else to do.

Helen gave a sniff, stepping back. “You’ve been speaking to James, then?”

“Yes, he contacted me to tell me of the Titanic’s fate, I’d been working all day and apparently missed all the news.”

“I suppose he’s been pestering you for updates on my arrival,” she surmised shrewdly.

“Ever the mother hen, yes.”

She gave him a smile for that. “Never a more fitting epithet for that man.”

“You know, even Nigel contacted me. I know, I was rather surprised too.”

“Blimey, they must have been worried.”

“Extremely so,” Nikola replied tightly, turning away. “Shall I run you a bath?”

“If it’s all the same, I’d rather sleep right now. It’s not often I’d admit this, but I am absolutely exhausted,” she answered, swallowing as she stared at his profile.

He looked up, nodding. “Would you like something fresh to sleep in, or will those suffice?” He asked, waving a hand towards her current attire.

“I’d love something new,” she smiled.

“Coming right up,” he replied softly, moving into the adjoining bedroom, towards the large chest of drawers against the wall. As he rifled through its contents, Helen removed her petticoats, setting them beside her abandoned dress, and made quick work of her underwear. The warm air of the room was heaven on her bare skin after days in her heavy and ruined clothing. Nikola re-entered the living room, a night-shirt in his hands, and faltered at the sight of her. Catching his startled expression, Helen managed to roll her eyes.

“Honestly, Nikola, shall I expect you to blush like a maid?”

Recovering quickly, he shot her a smile. “Well, one of us has to be proper in these situations, and while that’s usually you, it seems that would be my role tonight.”

She made a small scoffing noise, taking the night-shirt from him. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“I haven’t seen _those_ before,” he murmured, nodding at the extensive bruising covering her ribs, dotting dark splashes of stained skin along her hip and thigh.

“I had a bit of a fall,” she whispered, pulling the shirt over her head.

“I’ll say,” he replied, stepping forward to help her tug the shirt down. Once settled over her frame, he quickly buttoned the shirt for her, receiving a grateful smile. “What happened?”

All of the previous warmth evaporated from her eyes, and she glanced away from him. “The ship sank, Nikola. Hadn’t you heard?”

He grimaced at the bite in her voice. “Helen, I’m just concerned.”

“Well, don’t be!”

“Excuse me?”

Her head whipped around and she faced him with a glare. “I said ‘don’t be’. I’m perfectly alright, and I can handle everything without you or the boys fussing over me.”

“Oh, Helen, you are far from ‘perfectly alright’, so don’t give me that tripe.”

“ _Tripe_? When did you suddenly become the authority on determining people’s emotions, Nikola? You’ve never given a damn about anyone but yourself!”

He stared at her, feeling his hackles rising in response. “Contrary to popular belief, I am not the entirely selfish and arrogant ass that everyone would have you believe. I may not give a damn about most people, Helen, but I am hurt that you would accuse me of caring so little for you. You, above all people, know that there is no single soul I care more for than you.”

Helen turned away from him, shutting her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself, feeling a pang of guilt. “I apologise, Nikola. I have no excuse for my words other than perhaps claiming exhaustion.”

“You are, as always, forgiven, my dear,” he murmured, relaxing his stance. “Perhaps sleep would be the next best course of action?” He offered, gesturing towards the bedroom.

She nodded with a small smile. “Definitely, I’d imagine.” She let him lead her from the room, into the adjoining bedroom.

Awaiting her was a luxurious four-poster bed, which was possibly the softest and most tempting looking thing she had ever laid her eyes on. She ran her hand along one of the darkly lacquered posts.

“It’s very like my own one back in London,” she mused absentmindedly, internally praising the Waldorf-Astoria’s fine decorative tastes.

“Hm, yes,” Nikola agreed. “However, I’ve always found your bed much more comfortable. That may have been the company though.”

“Careful, you,” she warned with a tired smile.

He raised an eyebrow at her as he pulled back the sheets. “Dear me, was that a threat? You know you’re not very menacing when the only weapon in your arsenal is a yawn.”

Helen huffed a laugh, helping him nudge aside some pillows. “I always have a trick up my sleeve, don’t you fret.”

“I was rather surprised not to find your pistol up your sleeve as I undressed you,” he admitted. “Which begs the question, where are you hiding the damned thing?”

“Beg no more, darling. It’s at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. I’m afraid I lost it along my travels. When one’s assailant is the sea, you’ll quickly find that bullets do very little damage.”

“Of course,” he murmured. “Now, into bed with you.”

“Goodness, Nikola, I never had you pegged to play nursemaid,” she jibed fondly, climbing into the bed.

He chuckled. “You ever breathe those words again, my dear, and they’ll never find your body.”

“Oh-ho, I think you underestimate darling James. He’d have you figured out in an instant.”

“The old boy always said I’d be a rather easy catch as a serial killer. I believe he mentioned something about a lingering scent of Bordeaux at the crime scenes.”

She hummed in agreement. “Yes, well, apparently we aren’t all suited to be serial killers.”

“Indeed not,” he replied quietly, brushing his finger along her hair. “Is there anything I can get you? A drink, perhaps? Have you eaten?”

Helen smiled softly. “You might stay awhile with me?”

“Of course.” He got to his feet and kicked off his shoes, shucking his suit jacket, and set it aside. “You’d better not hog all the blankets, Helen,” he warned glibly, sliding into the bed next to her. “Hypothermia or no.”

“I’ll try my best,” she promised, letting him curl around her.

“See that you do.” He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder. “Goodnight, Helen.”

Her hand clasped the one he was resting against her abdomen, lacing her fingers with his. “Thank you, Nikola.”

“Always,” he replied simply.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd and written in the heights of flu. So, goodness only knows how it reads! I had originally planned for Helen to be sick with the flu the morning after arriving in NYC, back when I thought of this story aaages ago. But 1000 words in, and the flu storyline wasn't meshing right, and I was sick in bed myself (writing sick fic is no fun when you are sick yourself) so I deleted the week's worth of work, and wrote all of this during my sick day (I also made a whole Teslen video, check it out on my youtube page: http://www.youtube.com/user/HostilePoet17 ), so let me know what you think! :)

Helen jerked upwards, gasping for air, but none would come. Her lungs burned with the effort of it, her eyes straining to see through the inky darkness around her. She was suffocating, she needed air, she was going to die. Oh god, there was water all around her, she was dying… She couldn’t breathe…

“ _Helen_!”

She opened her mouth, frantically seeking air, only encountering endless water, so cold it burned her lungs. She gagged, spluttering, desperate to breathe.

“ _Helen, come on_.”

The blackness was everywhere, it was all she could see, she was choking on it. She needed to breathe…

A strong arm banded around her, tugging her up and away, pulling her free. She was free…

With a gasp, Helen woke up, coughing into the cool air of the room. Nikola cradled her against him, rubbing a soothing hand up and down the planes of her back.

“Just breathe, Helen. You’re safe, everything is okay now. Come on, Helen, breathe. That’s it, in and out,” he murmured.

She inhaled almost greedily, desperate and starved. The sensation of air filling her lungs, then pushing out, filling, then pushing, was relief beyond compare. She slumped backwards against him, letting her head loll against his shoulder as she breathed. His hand kept up a steady rhythm, as the other arm lay wrapped firmly around her waist.

“You’re safe, ljubav,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair.

Helen nodded weakly, reaching to grasp at the front of his shirt, grounding herself in him. The reassuring thrum of his heart beneath her palm pushed the last vestiges of her nightmare away, and she relaxed as they sat in the middle of the bed, curled together in the darkness.

“Sorry about – ”she began.

His lips against her forehead cut her off. “Hush, don’t even try to apologise, Helen. Don’t even think for a moment that you should apologise.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, letting her eyes fall shut.

“Think nothing of it,” was all he said, rocking her gently.

She must have drifted back to sleep at some point, must have faded back into rest as he slowly lulled her, as the next thing she knew, soft morning light was filtering through the curtains around the bed. Rolling onto her back, Helen saw the Serb sitting on the bed, leafing through a bundle of papers. Noticing that she was awake, he set them down on the bedside locker, giving her a soft smile.

“Good morning.”

“Hello,” she replied, sitting up. “How long was I asleep for?”

“Not as long as you needed, I imagine. Shall I order some breakfast to be sent up?”

“Oh, yes, thank you. That would be lovely.”

He got to his feet and she noticed he had already changed into a new suit for the day. “I must say, they do serve a rather exquisite array of black teas here, Helen. Even you’ll be impressed. Now, there’s a basin of fresh hot water and a towel here for a quick wash before breakfast, and then I’ll run you a nice hot bath, alright?”

She smiled at him in bemusement. “Nikola, you don’t have to do all that.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “Oh, do give it up, Helen. You and I both know this isn’t a question of your capabilities. Just allow me to take care of you for once, can you do that?”

Raising an eyebrow in surprise, she conceded with a small nod. “I’ll try.”

“Alright then. Now, I’ll go arrange that breakfast,” he smiled, leaving the room.

Helen sat on the bed, shaking her head at the ever-mercurial vampire. Even after all these years, one never really knew what to expect when dealing with Nikola Tesla. Climbing out of bed, she undressed, setting the nightshirt aside, and headed over to the wash basin on the dresser. Content with freshening up briefly, she eyed Nikola’s luxurious silk dressing gown (recognising it as the one she had given him many years ago, for his 42nd birthday, if she recalled rightly). Grabbing it from the open wardrobe, she slipped it on, wrapping it firmly around herself, fastening the ties tightly.

Glancing at herself in the mirror, she grimaced at the bruised circles under her eyes, the almost-electrified quality to her hair. Sniffing in dismissal, she decided that there wasn’t much to be done for it until she’d eaten and had the chance to have a good and thorough clean-up. Her gaze snagged on the notes Nikola had tossed aside before leaving. She gathered them up, skimming along the pages of careful diagrams, of cramped equations, and of little notes in that wonderful script of his she had always rather envied. Everything with Nikola seemed to be in constant motion, down to the very energy his handwriting captured. Failing to glean any real answers as to his current project, she followed him out of the room, plans in hand.

“So, care to tell the class what all these notes and equations mean then?” She asked, leaning in the doorway.

She could see the side of his face quirk into a smile as he leaned over his desk, back half-turned towards her. “Myself and Maxwell, a fellow overseeing the city’s public schools, are venturing into the notion of –” He trailed off as he looked up and noticed her attire. Swallowing, he drank her in with a raised eyebrow. “I have always rather liked it better on you.”

“Does that mean I can have it back?” She asked, smoothing down the front of the robe.

His face broke into a grin. “Perish the thought. How about I bequeath it to you in my will?”

“Promises the immortal vampire to the ageless woman,” she finished with a wink.

“Touché.”

“You were saying? About the chap and the schools?”

“Ah yes, we’re looking into the notion of electrifying the classrooms with high-frequency currents.”

She glanced down at the pages with a frown. “To what end?”

“I’m glad you asked.” He sat on the edge of the desk, arms crossed. “Well, there was a similar environment in Stockholm, an experiment by one Dr Svante Arrhenius, that showed an increase in the aptitude of the students. We’re hoping that we can apply the same situation here and perhaps make the children of America oh so smart and wonderful. I’m hoping that by using the wonderful Tesla coils,” he paused to relish the name, eliciting a grin from her, “that we can eliminate any harm coming to the defective little runts.”

She chuckled. “You sound like quite the humanitarian.”

“Well, you know, it’s nice to see my great inventions being used for good. And you can read all about my fine humanitarian endeavours in last week’s _New York Times_ ,” he offered, picking a paper up from the desk and waving it teasingly towards her. “Shall we swap?”

With a grin, she rushed over to him, handing him his notes and grabbing the newspaper from his hand. “‘Tesla Predicts More Wonders’?” She read aloud. “Oh, darling, do get me a copy that I can bring home and show James. He’s complaining about the ever-increasing mountain of articles I’ve collected about you, but I know he’s really just as proud as I am.”

He chuckled, slipping his notes into a drawer. “You can keep that one if you wish, my dear. I am more than well-aware of my own predictions. But, of course, I am also sure that you are more aware of my wonders,” he smirked.

She snorted a laugh, shaking her head at him. “Honestly, you incorrigible git, it’s far too early for that kind of banter. I haven’t even had my tea yet.”

“Ah, but that shall be remedied soon, they’re sending up our meal as we speak. It’s a bit too chilly this morning to take breakfast on the balcony, so would you care to join me at my rather small dining room table?”

Rolling her eyes at him, she set the paper aside, and allowed him to theatrically lead her by the arm to the table. No sooner had she taken her seat, there was a knock at the door.

“Et maintenant, le petit-déjeuner!” He proclaimed, making her grin. He strode over and flung open the door. “Bonjour, Monsieur Oliver! Ça va ce matin?”

The young man glanced worriedly over at Helen, unsure of how to approach the eccentric inventor, and equally unsure of what was being asked of him.

“Oh, Nikola, leave the poor boy alone, and let him in. Good morning,” she greeted.

“Morning, ma’am. Sir,” he nodded at Tesla, wheeling the cart inside. “I hope you enjoy your breakfast, and let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

Helen smiled as he set out the tray bearing a steaming teapot and two china cups perching on saucers. “Merci,” she murmured, catching Nikola’s eye.

The inventor pulled a few notes from his pocket and passed them to the young server. “Excellent service as always, Oliver. That will be all for now.”

With another nod and quiet thanks, Oliver was ushered from the suite.

“Good heavens, Nikola, must you terrorise the staff so early in the day?” She asked in exasperation, pouring the tea.

“Keeps them on their toes, Helen,” he bantered back. “Must be careful not to let them get complacent, you see.”

Shaking her head at him, she set the teapot aside. “Oh, I see. I wish daily that I didn’t see into the ridiculous intricacies of Nikola Tesla’s mind, but unfortunately, my wishes have gone unanswered thus far.”

“Mewling wench,” he grinned, heaping sugar into their cups.

“Infantile power-monger,” she shot back, adding some milk.

He stuck his tongue out at her, and reached over to unveil their breakfasts. “How’s this for a Full English?” He offered, gesturing at the extravagant display of sausages, bacon, eggs and beans.

“My arteries doth protest, darling. I believe you’re attempting to feed Nigel, not me.”

“Oh come now, I’ve seen you tear into a meal such as this many a time.”

“As a curative solution when you’ve persuaded me to raid my father’s finest liquor cabinets the night before? Yes.”

“Well, Helen, if it’s a few glasses of sherry that will make this more appetising for you, then I shall merely have to make a call down to the concierge. No doubt they’ll find the cravings of Miss Magnus in 369 to be strange, but I’m sure they’ll be more than amenable.”

Shooting a glare at him, she reached forward and speared a sausage with her fork, taking a bite. “Satisfied?”

“Immensely.”

The rest of their breakfast passed in light conversation as they regaled each other with the current affairs of their lives. Nikola’s grumblings of a certain Menlo Park inventor had Helen laughing so hard she snorted tea down the front of the borrowed robe (thankfully, the decadent silk was black, and therefore, no damage done).

Helen basked in the easy glow of his company, having missed their wonderful back-and-forths in person. His letters were among her most treasured possessions, but they really failed to measure up to the delight she took in their meetings. She’d be damned if they let it go so long before being reunited again.

At some point, his chair had sidled ever-so-subtly towards hers, and somehow they’d both manoeuvred as to leave her half-sitting in his lap, stifling her laughter against his lapel. It never ceased to amaze her what a balm Nikola could be for her soul, how, despite his peculiarities and faults, the man always brought joy into her life when she needed it most. She watched as he caught her hand in his, and pressed gentle kisses along her knuckles, his thumb sweeping soft circles along her fingers. Resting her head against his shoulder, she marvelled at the sense of peace he elicited within her. Though she’d never admit it aloud, in these moments, she was utterly in love with the ridiculous Serb. The soft, beautiful side that he only ever revealed to her always enraptured her to no end.

“Now,” he murmured, with one final kiss to her hand before letting go. “Perhaps we should endeavour to get you bathed now that you’ve been thoroughly entertained and fed, shall we?”

Nodding, she moved away from him, getting to her feet. “That would be lovely.”

“Indeed, my dear, because quite frankly, you reek,” he replied, smirking as he attempted to duck the piece of toast she hurled at his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A/N: “Ljubav” – Serbian for “my love”. It’s ADORABLE, and used in like every Teslen fic, ever.  
> Wizard by Mark J. Seifer attributes the Tesla article to the Times, whereas the Tesla Collection attributes it to the New York Sun. So, I took a little creative license here, and chose to run with it being published in the NYT, as that sounds oh so much more impressive when he’s showing off to Helen.  
> Translation: “And now, breakfast! Hello, Oliver, how are you this morning?”]
> 
> Thank you all for reading, my lovelies!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took me AGES to write this one. AGES. I've so much college work due, so procrastinating on all of that led to this! 4,000 words later, and they finally get from breakfast to lunch! Oh my god, this fic is going to be so long. I hope you enjoy it, it's not been beta'd so all mistakes are mine.  
> Let me know if anything AT ALL seems out of character!  
> THESE BABES. They put a smile on my face every time I write dialogue for them. I do love them so.  
> I'd love any feedback you can give me! :)

He felt her eyes on him, watching him as he filled the bath, knowing that if he turned to face her, he’d be met with a bemused smile.

“Something on your mind?” He asked, testing the temperature of the water, before pulling away, satisfied.

She frowned. “Do I really smell that bad?”

Nikola chuckled, she never failed to see through him. “It is really quite awful.”

She pursed her lips ruefully, moving to stand beside him. “Then why on earth did you sleep with me last night if it was that terrible?”

His gaze softened. “Because, frankly, dear Helen, it has been much too long since I could.”

Helen smiled and cupped his cheek in her palm. “You can be a very sweet man, Nikola.”

“Don’t tell anyone, you’ll spoil my reputation,” he winked.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” she said, nodding towards the steaming bath tub.

He shrugged, drying his hands on a towel. “I know. But when have you ever known me to do as I was supposed to?” He challenged with a grin.

Rolling her eyes, she squeezed his forearm gratefully. “Good point. Shall you be joining me?”

“Ah, such a sweet and tempting offer, but alas, dearest Helen, I have a number of errands to run. I shall leave you to bathe in peace.”

She smiled at him. “Off to the lab then, yes?”

“How quickly she sees through me. Hm, yes, there’s a few things I must check up on. You’ll be alright here?”

“Of course. Go, run errands, be brilliant.”

His face split into a wide grin and he pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Yes, ma’am.” He spun around, leaving the beautiful bathroom, grabbing his coat from the parlour, and heading from the hotel suite. For the first time in a week, his heart felt light and the terror of the Titanic’s unknown fate was lifted from his shoulders. Helen was safe, she was alive. Pulling the coat over his frame, he whistled lightly as he walked down the hallway. Deciding to avoid the wait for the elevator, he jogged down the service stairs, running his hand along the smooth wooden bannisters.

Reaching the lobby, he nodded pleasantly at passing guests and staff, his overwhelming joy and relief bubbling through him. Helen Magnus, his Helen, was alive and well, and upstairs. After almost a decade without being by her side, he could finally see her wry smiles, steal a kiss or two, and listen to the razor sharp wit that permeated her every word, and matched his own so beautifully. Oh, how he’d missed her. To have the chance to lie by her side last night, listening to the soft cadence of her breathing had been a gift, something he had sorely missed. America may be the land of dreams and opportunity, sure, but the absence of one Helen Magnus was definitely a huge disadvantage.

Approaching the concierge’s desk, a growing habit for him of late, he waved over a maid. “Susan, could I perhaps steal you away from your tasks to run an errand for me?” He asked with a polite smile.

The young woman flushed at the charming Serb. “Of course, sir. What would you like me to do?”

Ripping a page from a ledger on the front desk, he pulled a pen out of his pocket and scribbled down some notes. “These are Miss Magnus’ measurements. Could you have some clothing bought for her? I’d do it myself, but I’m afraid it’s been a rather long time since I shopped for her. She has nothing but the clothes on her back, so whatever you can get her would be wonderful.”

Susan smiled. “Yes, sir. That won’t be a problem.”

“Excellent,” he fished a few notes from his jacket. “Here, this should be enough to cover the costs, and this,” he pulled out another two and slipped them into her apron, “should cover your troubles.”

“Oh, sir, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m in a generous mood, you see. And I do appreciate your help, of course. If you could leave them behind this desk once you’ve returned, I’d be happy to collect them here.”

“Of course, Mr Tesla.”

With a final thankful nod, Nikola left, heading out of the hotel and into the bustling streets outside. He kept a private lab two blocks from the hotel, leased under an alias, so as to avoid being harassed and the threat of industrial espionage. It was rather nice to have a place to go to where he could work alone and unbothered. And his research on _sanguine vampiris_ was too precious to leave in his hotel room or in a lab publicly known to be his. Slipping into a side alley that ran along the back of a bakery, the air rich with the sweet tang of pastries, he ducked around the large dumpsters, over the piles of abandoned boxes that filled the laneway. Nikola Tesla was nothing if not excellent at disappearing in plain sight, slinking into the shadows like a cat when he needed to, and then reappearing in the limelight when he required his ego to be stroked or his genius to be praised. He came to a non-descript metal door, one that would be passed so easily, without a second glance or thought, and unlocked it, pulling it open quietly. Once inside, he relocked the door, and bounded up the narrow staircase, into the single room upstairs.

The lab sat in darkness, and Tesla reached out along the wall, fingers curling around a loose wire. Sparks sizzled from his fingertips, flowing through the wire, and the room lit up with a hum. He smiled, tapping his fingers together, relishing the remnants of energy buzzing underneath his skin. Oh, he would never become jaded of the feeling of electricity coursing through him, it was magnificent.

Shucking his coat off, he folded it over a stool, and pushed up his sleeves. On the lab bench before him was a tangle of wires and metal coils, a more comprehensive selection than the one in his hotel suite. Pulling open a drawer, he lifted a heavy leather notebook from its depths and set it on the table. Hooking his ankle around the legs of another stool, he dragged it towards him, settling in front of the desk. He flipped through the book, past countless logs, intricate sketches and equations, and settled on the last page he’d left off.

His work had been neglected somewhat in the weeks since Helen’s initial letter to inform him of her intentions to visit. And then his excitement had overcome him to the point where work was almost impossible to focus on. Then, of course, news of the Titanic’s fate had arrived, assuring that his lab had laid empty and untouched for the last week. And so, he took advantage of the peace of mind that Helen’s safety provided, and indulged himself in a few hours of work.

The hours ticked by, and Nikola worked contentedly, engaging in the science after what had felt too long a spell of respite. Finally, he noticed the clock moving slowly into the afternoon, and decided to return to the hotel, to join Helen for lunch. He may have missed the work, but he was hardly going to squander what time he could spend with his companion. Tidying away his notes and a half-finished prototype, he returned the little lab to darkness once more, locked up, and re-entered the outside world.

Skirting around the people bustling about the streets, a bright display on a storefront across the way caught his eye, making him grin. He popped inside, before re-emerging minutes later with a colourful bouquet of tulips, tucked into a neat cone of lilac paper. Shaking his head at himself, he headed back to the hotel, armed with his gift.

Upon entering the hotel, he suddenly noted the swarm of businessmen, looking dour and severe in their strict uniforms of greys and blacks, milling about the lobby, talking quietly in their little groups. Nikola eyed them warily, recognising more than a few faces – politicians, engineers and reporters amongst the lot. What they were converging upon his home for, however, he did not know. He sidled past them, making sure to go unnoticed as he sought out the concierge.

“Ah, Mr Tesla, those items you requested are here,” Edwin greeted, gesturing towards a mass of bags in the back room. “And a telegram from England.”

“Perfect, could you perhaps spare me a bellhop to assist me in bringing them to my room? I’d rather have it all delivered in one fell swoop, you see,” Nikola smiled, tucking the proffered communiqué into his jacket.

“Of course, sir. And I thought you might like to know that the investigations into the tragedy of the Titanic will be conducted in our hotel. Perhaps it may be best for Miss Magnus not to stumble into these sad affairs, or overhear anything about it.”

Nikola glanced back at the austere gentlemen, and frowned. “So that explains it. Thank you for letting me know, I appreciate it, Edwin.”

“Happy to be of service, Mr Tesla. I’ll have Oliver assist you with your bags. And I assume you would like lunch to be sent up for yourself and Miss Magnus?”

“That ability to read minds is what makes you the finest concierge I’ve had the good grace to meet, Edwin,” Nikola chuckled. “That would be most excellent. We’ll have the chef’s special today, surprise us.”

“As you wish, sir.” Stepping back from the counter, Edwin caught Oliver’s attention, beckoning him over. “Do help Mr Tesla with his packages, thank you.”

The bellhop immediately began to load a cart with the many purchases, and with Nikola’s assistance, wound it through the crowd to the elevator.

“So, it’s been a rather busy morning for you then, I see,” Nikola nodded at Oliver.

“Yes, sir. A lot of people want to know what happened on the ship.”

“I bet they do. Say, any news on the lost? There was quite a number of well-known individuals on-board. It’s usually that kind of money that inspires this many bureaucrats to gather in one place.”

“Mr Astor was one of ‘em, sir.”

Nikola frowned. “Jack Astor? Christ, I hadn’t even heard he was aboard.” He glanced away from the bellhop, swallowing. Nikola felt a pang in his chest, he and Jack had only so recently repaired their working relationship. Leaning back against the wall of the elevator, he struggled to process the information. Nikola wasn't one to often admit that he was in the wrong, but even he felt rather contrite about how he had deceived Jack to get funding. He’d been beyond relieved to have their friendship back in order once more. And now this…

“Sir, we’re at your floor,” Oliver interjected, startling Nikola out of his thoughts.

Nodding, he stepped out of the elevator, helping Oliver down the hallway to his suite. Reaching the door, he unlocked it, and stepped inside.

“Just set the packages on the floor, thank you.” He handed a bill to the bellhop, and set the flowers down on the table. Pulling the telegram out of his pocket, he unfolded it.

WONDERFUL NEWS. GLAD TO HEAR HELEN IS SAFE. HAVE HER WRITE TO ME IMMEDIATELY. BEHAVE. JAMES.

Rolling his eyes, Nikola cast the note aside. “‘ _Behave_ ’,” he snorted. “Shall I write back ‘yes, Mother’?” He put his hands on his hips, sneering at the telegram as it sat on the table. “He’ll be expecting a full-length novella from Helen, no doubt.”

Noticing that Oliver had left, he scooped the flowers up and headed into the bedroom. “Helen, I’m back.” But, the bed lay empty, and there was no sign of the Brit at the writing desk nor anywhere else. Frowning, he retreated to the living room, glancing around, before peering out onto the balcony. And yet, no Helen. His attention landed on the bathroom door, and he walked over, wondering at what she would still be doing in there. With a light knock, he opened the unlocked door.

“Helen, are you in here? I’ve a few little gifts for – Jesus, Helen!”

She sat, frozen, in the tub, skin chilled and bordering on blue. Her eyes were unfocusedly staring into the water, apparently unaware of his entrance.

“Helen!” He rushed forward, flowers falling to the ground, shaking her out of her trance. “This water’s freezing, Helen! What in blazes are you still doing in here?”

She seemed to slowly start awake, horrified realization dawning on her features as she came to her senses. “Oh g-g-g-god,” she stammered, teeth rattling with the chill.

Nikola grabbed a large towel, and flung it around her shoulders, tugging her out of the tub. “For fuck sake, Helen, what were you thinking?” He hurriedly scrubbed at her skin, trying to rub some warmth back into her. “You look like something from Picasso’s blue period, Christ.”

Helen shuddered with the cold, shaking her head.

“Please, tell me what just happened, Helen. Tell me, and I can help you.” At her silence, he sighed and wrapped her in a hug, still moving his hands up and down her back to warm her up. “I’m not angry, you just gave me a scare, alright? I imagine that’s knocked a few years off of me. Come on, we’ll get you dried up and then we’ll have a chat, alright?”

She gasped a sob, crumbling in his arms, legs shaking too much to support her. He eased them both to the ground, reaching over to nab another towel to wrap her in, tucking her into a tight cocoon in his arms.

“There, better? Ssh, now, no tears. It’s alright, Helen. You’re alright. Just get warmed up, okay?”

“S-s-s-so much w-water,” she spluttered, shutting her eyes against the warm tears that were suddenly pouring down her cheeks. “All the w-w-water, I couldn’t…”

Nikola sighed, hugging her closer. “Oh, Helen. It’s alright. Come on, let’s get you into some warm clothes.” He got to his feet, half lifting her with him, his vampiric strength more than enough to support them both. Scooping her into his arms, he carried her from the room, and headed straight to the bedroom. He set her down on the bed, pulling a blanket around her shoulders. Turning to his dresser, he rooted around in the drawers before finding a spare tie. He then gathered up her damp hair, twisting it into a rough imitation of the way he’d seen Helen herself do before, and then gently tied it into place with his necktie. With her hair out of the way, he tugged one of the towels from around her, drying her off. He scrubbed at her legs, trying to warm her chilled limbs. She started at his warm hands as they cupped her feet, protesting at the heat.

He chuckled, giving them a brisk rub. “Must be done, I’m afraid. Good to see your reactions are up to scratch though.”

Quickly making sure she was dried, he enveloped her in the thick duvet before fetching her some clothes from his drawers.

“Now, I did take the liberty of getting you your own clothes. However, I feel that now is hardly the time for corsets and crinoline, and perhaps more so a time for layers of undershirts, and borrowed socks, yes?”

Helen nodded, teeth still chattering, but he thought he caught her rolling her eyes, which generally held to be a good sign with her.

“Right, let’s get you bundled up then, shall we?” He pulled the bed coverings away from her and slipped a long sleeved thermal over her. “Don’t poke fun at my clothing now. New York in the winter is outrageous, even by my standards.” He pulled a button-down shirt over her, and then a thick knitted jumper. Moving to her feet, he rolled two pairs of woollen socks over them, and helped her up to stand into a pair of pyjama trousers. He pulled on the strings, fastening the waistband as tight as he could over her slim hips. “There, that’s you dressed. Now, under the covers and warm up.”

Helen crawled onto the bed, pulling the heavy blankets over herself. “Thank you.”

Grabbing the damp towels, Nikola carried them from the room, and hung them along the side of the bath tub. Pushing up his sleeve, he reached into the cold water to drain the bath. The water seemed to have triggered Helen in a bad way – Helen who, just that morning, had been laughing over her breakfast and bantering with him so freely. He couldn’t imagine what she had experienced on that ship, but it appeared that the water’s presence had prompted a distressing reaction in her. He thought back to her disturbed sleep during the night, when she had seemingly been struggling to breathe. Had she been submerged under the water? Surely, given her status as not only a first class passenger, but also as a woman, Helen would have been among the first offered refuge on the life boats. As the old mantra went, women and children first. Then, of course, as wretched society seemed to dictate, the rich before the poor. He couldn’t imagine that Helen had been left waiting for evacuation from the boat for so long as to be left underwater. Drying his hands, he shot a pensive look around the bathroom, dwelling on the events that may have happened during Helen’s voyage. His gaze caught on the bouquet of tulips left abandoned in the doorway, dropped in his haste to reach Helen. Walking out of the room, he gathered up up the flowers, and headed back to the bedroom.

Helen was lying on her side, blankets wrapped firmly over her shoulders, and cast him a small smile as he re-entered the room.

“Warming up any?” He asked, moving to sit on the bed beside her.

“Somewhat, yes, thank you,” she replied softly, sitting up. “What’s that you’ve got there? Tulips?”

He waved the flowers in the air slightly. “Ah, yes. Thought you might like them.”

“They’re lovely, Nikola. Thank you.”

Setting the bouquet on the bedside locker, he reached out to press his hand against her cheek. “You’re still rather chilled, Helen. Shall I get into bed with you and warm you up?” He offered lightly.

Helen gave a tired smile. “I’m sure you’ve done quite enough for me already, Nikola.”

“Keep in mind that it could be a lot worse – if you were in James’ care, you’d be halfway to being mummified in a cocoon of blankets, and he’d be building a campfire at the base of the bed.”

She laughed softly. “You’re probably not far off. I was rather looking forward to a respite from the coddling when I planned this trip, but it seems to somewhat unavoidable.”

Nikola narrowed his eyes and leaned forward into her personal space. “Helen Magnus, how dare you. I am not coddling. I have never coddled.”

She smiled widely, and gently nudged him away. “Oh, darling, you have been very much coddling me.”

“Well, now you’ve done it, missy. From now on, no more coddling. It’ll be sleeping on the couch and cold breakfasts for you tomorrow. You’ve no one to blame but yourself.”

Helen rolled her eyes, laughing at his antics. “Is that so? Shall I expect gruel for breakfast then?”

“You’d be lucky if I even deign to give you breakfast, you ungrateful witch,” he smirked, reclining along the bed, resting against her legs.

She kicked him lightly from underneath the blankets. “I’ll have to write to James and complain about this wicked treatment. I’ll never be allowed to leave the Isles again.”

“Oh, that reminds me. Your dear keeper is requesting correspondence from you, post haste.”

“He’s not my keeper, Nikola,” she laughed.

“Tell him that. Can you believe that wretched gumshoe had the audacity to tell me behave? As though I were a child?” He pouted up at her.

“Gumshoe?” She sputtered a laugh, shaking her head. “Don’t ever let him hear that one, dear. And of course he told you to behave. You rarely do.”

“I notice he never tells you to behave.”

“That’s because I’m the sensible one. You’re the mad inventor who’s always charming me into bed,” Helen replied.

Nikola sat up, leaning towards her. “Don’t play coy and innocent with me, dear Helen. You forget who you’re dealing with.”

She too leaned closer to him. “Oh, trust me. I never do.”

He gave a toothy grin. “I must say, Doctor Magnus, I have missed you.”

“Are my ears deceiving me? Is Nikola Tesla acknowledging the existence of someone other than himself? And so positively?”

“Only for you, sweet Helen,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her cheek, before moving to pull away.

She stopped the movement, cupping his face with her hands. “And where do you think you’re going?” She grinned, kissing him softly on the mouth, feeling his lips curling into a smile in response.

“Nowhere,” he murmured. “Nowhere in the world, _ljubav_.”

It had been much too long for either since they had kissed each other so sweetly, and both silently vowed to never let such time pass again. Nikola was enamoured by how Helen’s kisses seemed so similar and yet so different after their long parting. He pecked a line of kisses along her jawline, down to her throat, leaving Helen in giggles. Smiling against her neck, he pulled her into a tight hug.

“You scared me,” he whispered.

“I know.”

“All you do is scare me, Helen. You have a rather frightening power over me. It’s unstoppable, unbreakable, and frankly, immeasurable. As a scientist, I’m flummoxed.”

Her fingers grazed languidly through his hair, soothing him. She understood what it took for Nikola to make such confessions. “I’ll try to keep the near death experiences to a minimum from now on.”

He huffed a laugh, nuzzling at her neck. “That would be most appreciated.”

She laid back against the headboard, letting him settle against her, head slipping downwards to rest against her collarbone. Threading her fingers through his hair, Helen cleared her throat softly. “I fell asleep. In the bath, I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was half-submerged, and the water had gone cold. I couldn’t withstand the sensation of being surrounded by cold water, not again. So, I focused on breathing. As long as I could breathe, I was safe. I mustn’t have noticed the time passing, because I honestly don’t remember anything between waking up and your arrival. Except that I had to keep breathing. That was important.”

Nikola glanced up at her. “You ended up in the water, after the ship was damaged.”

Helen took a shaky breath, looking away from his sharp gaze. “Yes. Yes, I was in the water for some time.”

He sat up to face her better. “But how? Surely you were offered a space on a lifeboat?”

“I was,” she replied carefully.

“And?” He prompted.

“And I refused it,” she told him quietly, staring resolutely at the blankets.

“ _Kurvin sine_!” He yelled, jumping to his feet. Bracing his hands on his hips, he whipped around to face her. “Helen, you’ve done some damned stupid things in the time I’ve known you, but this really pushes it too far.”

“Don’t you dare get cross with me, Nikola Tesla,” she told him in a calm voice.

“Oh no? For Christ’s sake, Helen, are you insane? Is that it? Helen Magnus will live forever so she takes stupid risks and laughs in the face of death?”

“Oh, you’re quite right, do carry on,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“What the hell were you thinking? Just because you’ve gotten away with your ridiculous recklessness up until now does not make you impervious to death, Helen!”

“My ridiculous recklessness?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. “This coming from _you_? Pray do tell what acts of recklessness I’ve performed to earn such a reputation.”

“Oh, now, let’s see,” he began. “Aside from the idiotic refusal to board a lifeboat, there’s the fact that you choose to pursue dangerous Abnormals while unaccompanied all the time. Or perhaps the fact that you decided to procure the Source Blood and experiment upon yourself? Hm? Wait, how about the fact that you were engaged to marry Jack the Ripper? I think that was a pretty big oversight on your part, a bit reckless, don’t you think?”

Helen glared at him. “Really? That’s what you want to do, play the John card?”

“Why not? That’s generally what it takes to get you to listen, mention the notorious serial killer and watch how Helen reacts.”

She gave a humourless laugh. “Top form as usual, Nikola. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Apparently, neither have you.”

“Probably good reason enough to be living on separate continents then,” she replied bitingly. “I’ve been here a day and already wish I still had my gun.”

“Ah, still shooting our problems away, are we, dear Helen?”

“Why are you being so bloody horrible?”

“You refused a lifeboat, Helen!” His eyes were fluctuating black, and he turned around to control himself.

“Are you still taking your medication?” She asked quietly.

“Don’t ask stupid questions, Helen,” he growled, his voice deep with his vampiric timbre.

“Nikola.”

“I never stopped. And I never will, so don’t nag, Helen.”

With a sigh, she pushed aside the blankets and got to her feet. “I never nag. I just worry about you over here on your own.”

He faced her. “I thought you liked the distance?”

“I lied,” she said, giving him a small smile.

“How rude.”

“Says Nikola Tesla.”

“You know, that argument doesn’t work in response to every negative behaviour,” he replied.

“It has so far.”

“Yes, but, Helen, we have very long lives ahead of us, and it’s already beginning to get a little old. Time to refresh your material, I think.”

She chuckled, moving forward to rest against him. “It’s hardly my fault that such a response is eternally applicable.”

“Oh, nag, nag, nag,” he sighed. “Helen, why didn’t you get on the lifeboat?”

“It’s a long story, Nikola.”

“So, begin –” He was cut off by the sound of knocking at the suite door. “How opportune,” he grumbled. “That will be lunch.” He broke their embrace, and they walked out to the living area. “Would you like to hide behind the door? You look rather ridiculous.”

She rolled her eyes. “You dressed me.”

“Because I’m so kind and caring, don’t forget that,” he grinned, opening the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Kurvin sine!" is Serbian for "son of a bitch!" apparently. Very Nikola, right?  
> And John "Jack" Astor did in fact die on the Titanic. He had been Tesla's most generous investor until Nikola lied about what he was using the money for. It took a while before they were on good terms again.  
> And the Titanic tribunal was actually held in the same hotel Nikola was living in!  
> The research I do for this show! :P


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter to celebrate the end of essay season! Yay! I had THREE assignments due within the one week. They weren't kidding when they said law school was hard!  
> Unbeta'd and quite a deal shorter than the last, sorry! The sole purpose of this chapter was to progress the story a few hours ahead of where we last left our darlings, and also mainly for Teslen banter. I LOVE TESLEN BANTER (sorry I write so much of it).  
> Feedback is eternally welcomed. <3

“Nikola, you didn’t have to get me all of these,” Helen sighed, sifting through the bags of clothing.

“Well, technically, _I_ didn’t. A rather lovely maid fetched them on my behalf,” he smirked, sipping at his glass of wine.

Rolling her eyes, Helen pulled out a pale pink nightdress. “Oh, I quite like this one. You’ll allow me to pay you back for these, of course.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I insist upon it,” Helen said firmly, draping the dress over her lap.

“Or what? You’ll refuse to wear them? By all means, do so. You won’t hear me complaining,” he grinned.

“God help me, Nikola, I’ll spare the clothes boycott, I think. You’re doing so much for me, allow me to pay for clothing, Nikola.”

“Well, you know how I hate to impose on your fierce independence, my dear,” he sighed.

Helen chuckled, reaching forward to refill her wine glass. “Thank you. Once I have my affairs in order, I’ll make sure you’re duly repaid.”

“Your sweet company is payment enough,” Nikola smiled, causing Helen to snort a laugh.

“Is it time to cut you off?” She teased, placing her hand over the rim of his glass.

“You insult me. Now remove that hand if you don’t wish to lose it.”

She laughed and let go of his glass, shaking her head. “I hope your enemies never discover this Achilles’ heel of yours.”

“My Achilles’ heel being you, dear Helen?” He grinned.

“I was more so referring to the vino, actually.”

Nikola arched an eyebrow, and raised his glass in the air. “Touché.”

Clinking her own glass against his, Helen took another sip. “Mm,” she hummed in appreciation. “I must say, you do know how to choose them though.”

“Only the finest vintages for me, Helen. In both wine and women,” he smirked, nodding to her.

“I beg your pardon?” She laughed.

“Oh, Helen, you are pushing sixty-three now, don’t forget. Of course, I wouldn’t peg you as a day over fifty.”

She pursed her lips ruefully, shoving at his arm. “Cheeky bloody monkey.”

“Do tell, how does it feel to be over the big 6-0? I wouldn’t know, of course.”

“Just because I’m not armed doesn’t mean I can’t injure you, Nikola. Keep that in mind.”

“Oh, Helen,” he pouted. “You wound me.”

“Not yet,” she warned sharply.

He chuckled, swirling his wine around the bottom of his glass. “You know, some wealthy countess of whatever complimented me on my incredibly youthful looks last month. She wanted to know how I looked like a man of thirty.”

Helen frowned. “Nikola, you should probably start altering your appearance slightly. You’ll rouse suspicions otherwise.”

“You don’t.”

“I’m not in the public eye, you are. What happens when you _are_ sixty, and still haven’t aged in the last three decades? You need to consider it.”

He blew out a sigh. “I’d forgotten what a rotten spoilsport you can be.”

“Consider it the fruits of my greater age and wisdom,” she winked.

“It is one of your more attractive traits,” he conceded, grinning.

“My spoiling your fun?”

“No, the allure of an older woman.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “Good heavens, Nikola. Honestly, I often wonder where on earth I found you.”

He leaned back against the cushions of the sofa. “Luckiest damn day of your life.”

“If you say so,” she replied airily, gaze falling on the darkened sky visible over the horizon of the balcony. “I’ll have to go out tomorrow, fetch some more items. I’m afraid your maid failed to procure me some underwear.”

“No complaints here,” was the leering reply to her left.

She threw him a withering look. “If society knew how vulgar you truly are…”

“Don’t tell them, darling. Then you’d have to share me.”

Helen snorted a laugh, shaking her head. “For goodness sake, Nikola. Pack it in.”

Chuckling, Nikola turned to look at her. “I handed your belongings to the staff to be laundered when I got up this morning. Have no fear, Helen, you shall have undergarments tomorrow, and then you can head out and shop to your hearts content.”

She glanced at him in surprise. “Thank you, Nikola.”

He waved a hand dismissively in the air. “So, tell me of good London? Surely _something_ interesting has happened since I left?”

“Oh, but when do you ever find anything interesting if you weren’t involved?”

“You have a point there, dear, but I’m sure the great Helen Magnus has done something of note in the last eight years.”

“Accounts of which may be found in my weekly letters, Nikola,” she replied, smiling indulgently.

“You and I both know that the letters can’t compare to this, now come on, tell me something. How’s that Sanctuary of yours?”

Helen frowned, and leaned forward, pressing her hand against his forehead.

“I know you can’t keep your hands off of me, Helen, but that will achieve nothing.”

“I was merely checking to see if you were running a fever. The Nikola Tesla I know never willingly enquires about my Sanctuary.”

He pulled a face. “Humour me, Helen.”

“Come to think of it, you have always actively avoided talking about my Sanctuary. You haven’t even visited it once since you left London.”

“Your point?”

“Why on earth do you detest my home so much, Nikola?” She asked, setting her drink aside.

 “Oh, Helen, must you take it so personally?”

“I must. Come on, Nikola.”

“Do you recall what happened the last time I stayed there?”

Helen frowned. “Not particularly. I didn’t realise that the last time would _be_ the last.”

He stared into his wine glass, expression a touch darker than before. “ _Surely_ , you remember my final stay, Helen. Why, it was at the height of the Ripper’s spree, when we were all so desperately searching for the culprit.”

Paling, Helen swallowed, the memories from twenty years ago rushing back to meet her. “Oh, Nikola…”

His lips twisted into a harsh grin. “And now you see why I refuse to step foot in that _Sanctuary_ of yours,” he replied, sneering the word.

“Nikola, you know I objected. I fought them over it. I never, not for one moment, thought you were the Ripper.”

“Well, apparently, your testimony on my behalf was not enough.”

She reached toward him tentatively, placing her hand on his. “I had no idea that was what had kept you from my home all this time.”

“It seems that being chained up in your basement by one’s friends tends to make one rather reluctant to return.”

Helen brushed her thumb soothingly over his wrist. “Don’t forget I stayed by your side every day, darling. I knew you were innocent, I never even suspected you in the first place.”

He glanced up at her, meeting her earnest gaze. “I remember.”

She let go of his hand, raising hers to cup his cheek instead, her fingers threading into his hair. “You should visit me soon, Nikola. Perhaps a few good memories can be made to overwrite what last happened there,” she offered.

Nikola leaned into her palm. “Hmm, perhaps.” He straightened. “Wait, are we talking about “sex in every room of the house” kinda good memories?”

Arching an eyebrow at him, Helen sighed. “And he’s recovered.”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to her hand. “Merely a suggestion. Perhaps I’ll return some day.”

“Good. Because it’s bloody ridiculous that every time you come to London, you stay in a hotel.”

“I like hotels,” he insisted.

“Apparently so. But you’re not the one that has to look James in the eye when he’s got that dreadful knowing expression of his when I return home after a week in your hotel room.”

Nikola smirked. “Then perhaps, when I visit next time, I can look him in the eye over the breakfast table.”

“And that would only result in my having to hear weeks of his disapproval, good lord.”

“Let him disapprove. He must be horrified that I have you over here all to myself.”

Helen grinned. “He did try to put me off. It was rather amusing actually. He never did come right out and say _why_ he didn’t want me to visit you, of course.”

“Afraid to let dear Helen fall into my clutches?”

“Oh, it’s rather late for that, isn’t it?” She asked fondly, hand still curved along the plane of his jaw.

“Indeed it is, I’m afraid,” he murmured, closing the distance to press his lips to hers.

Helen smiled, reaching forward to prise his wine glass from his hand, setting it down on the table beside hers, before recapturing his lips with hers. In response, Nikola wound an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him, her soft mouth opening under his. She breathed a sigh as his tongue traced along her lips, before slipping past her lips to meet hers. He gave a little hum at the back of his throat as Helen curled her other arm around his neck, bringing him tightly against her. His fingers buried themselves into the thick curls at the base of her neck, trying to anchor himself to this moment for all eternity. Breaking the kiss to steal a breath, Helen glanced up at the vampire, and grinned, before catching his bottom lip between hers once more. He chuckled in response, relishing in the warm brush of her lips. Nikola tugged her closer again, and found her clambering onto his lap, a position he found no fault with. She gave a coy smile, tracing her thumb along his mouth.

“Perhaps we should retire to the bedroom?” She offered, arching an eyebrow.

“A fine recommendation, Dr Magnus,” he breathed, teeth glinting in the dim light of the parlour as he grinned up at his companion.

She slid from his grasp, choosing to stand before him. “Then, perhaps, Mr Tesla, you can remove the many garments you dressed me in this afternoon?” She asked with a wicked smile, extending her hand to him, beckoning him forward.

She didn’t have to ask twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked that. I *HATE* writing kissing scenes. Give me snarky banter any day. But these guys were too damn cute to resist it.  
> Also, the part about Nikola being chained by The Five due to Ripper suspicion is totally a headcanon of mine. He would've been displaying signs of bloodlust, and Druitt would probably have purposefully diverted attention towards Nikola. That's just me though (may write it into a ficlet some day!).


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in the last few days - oh how I'm procrastinating on my college work! The last chapter was a cutesy interval between traumatised bathtub Helen, and here when we find out what happened our darling. No Teslen banter, I'm afraid.
> 
> I hope this Helen is okay - I know I've made her seem rather fragile thus far, but honestly, I imagine the experience on the Titanic would've broken her to pieces. The Helen Magnus we know values ALL LIVES, the loss of so many people would kill her.
> 
> Unbeta'd as always.
> 
> Feedback makes my day. <3

Nikola lay on his side, twirling a golden curl loosely around his finger. It amazed him how though he generally couldn’t stand the thought of touching another person’s hair, Helen’s had always entranced him. The masses of wild blonde curls had caught his eye from day one – that solitary, brilliant woman standing in the courtyard at Oxford, golden hair in contrast to her dark crimson dress, daring the men to challenge her presence.  He had been utterly enraptured from that moment.

Now, she lay on her front beside him, head angled to face him, the bare skin of her back peering through the tangle of golden curls. As his finger left her hair to gently trace equations along the soft skin of her back, he saw her face contort in her sleep. Her features screwed up in distress, her mouth opening in silent protest. He brushed some hair from her face, trying to soothe her, but to no avail. She stiffened, gasping for air, her hands desperately clutching at the pillow for purchase. He tried to shake her awake, pulling her into his arms. Briefly, she struggled against his hold, still gasping for breath, unable to find relief.

“Sssh, ssshh, Helen, you’re safe. Come on, Helen,” he soothed. “Breathe in, it’s alright.”

She startled awake, sucking in a ragged breath.

He ran his hands up and down her arms, trying to calm her out of the nightmare. “You’re safe now, darling. You’re safe.”

Helen relaxed against him, still drawing in deep breaths. Her hands found his, clutching both tightly. He felt the tremors running through her fingers as she laced hers around his. He raised their joined hands, wrapping their arms around her frame, holding her closely to him. He heard her sniff quietly, composing herself. “Thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” he whispered, kissing her temple.

“I’m afraid I’ve put a dampener on our lovely night.”

“Oh, so not possible,” he smiled, rocking her gently.

She gave a quiet laugh. “Good to know.”

“Short of shooting me right now, Helen, there’s nothing that can be done to ruin tonight.”

“Damn, shame I forgot my gun then,” she jibed lightly.

“Small mercies,” he sighed dramatically, resting his head against hers. They sat in silence for a beat as Nikola swayed them slowly, lulling Helen into peace, before he spoke once more. “Tell me what happened, Helen. On the ship, why did you refuse a lifeboat?”

She stiffened in his arms. “Time to tell that story then, is it? I suppose I’ve been putting it off all day.”

“Only if you feel up to it,” he replied.

She pulled out of his grasp, turning to face him. “It’s not a pretty story, Nikola.”

“I’d be surprised if it was.”

Regarding him carefully for a moment, Helen gave a little nod. “Alright then. I’ll tell you,” she whispered, lying back against the pillows. “Where would you like me to start?”

He mirrored her actions, lying down to face her. “Why didn’t you get on the lifeboats?”

“I was offered a place, it must have been the fourth or fifth boat being lowered to sea. But I realised that the third class passengers weren’t even on the decks yet. And they were filling to boats to a fraction of their capacities before sending them on their way. Nikola, they couldn’t possibly have had enough room for everyone with the way they were carrying it out.”

“So, you refused it?”

“Yes. I declined the space, and asked the officer in charge where the third class passengers were. He told me not to concern myself with that, and to get into the boat,” she recounted, disgust etched plainly on her face. “I couldn’t believe it, so I pushed my way away from the boats, and headed back inside. I could see officers everywhere shepherding the upper class passengers outside, but there wasn’t a single person in there who wasn’t dressed in finery or the ship uniforms. So, I hurried towards the stairwell, to get down to the lower class decks.”

“To find out where they were?”

“Precisely. If you were being housed in the lower quarters of a sinking ship, surely you’d be on the upper decks ensuring that your children are the first to board the lifeboats?”

Nikola frowned, nodding. “Of course. It’s an evolutionally hardwired instinct to protect one’s young. So why weren’t they?”

Helen looked away from him, eyes drifting towards the canopy of the bed as she swallowed. “Because they didn’t _know_ the ship was sinking.”

“What?”

“They weren’t informed by the stewards and officers. When I got down there, there was already water running along the corridor, and a few passengers were in the hallways, trying to figure out what the source of the commotion upstairs was. I overheard a passing steward assuring them that everything was alright, that a pipe had burst, and that they should return to their rooms.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I’m afraid not. The bastards didn’t want to cause a panic and have the lower decks storming the lifeboats. There wasn’t enough room, you see. Everybody upstairs knew that, but nobody gave a damn,” she whispered bitterly.

“What did you do?”

“What else could I have done? I started telling them what was going on, urging them to dress warmly, put on their life jackets and head upstairs.”

“Did they do it?”

“Would you have done it if a mad English woman in an evening gown and a life jacket had run towards you wailing that the ship was sinking? They didn’t believe me.”

“But you said there was water in the corridors already…”

“Which they had been told had come from a burst pipe. They had no reason to believe me.”

“Jesus,” Nikola muttered, shaking his head.

“Precisely. So, I did the only thing I could think of,” Helen replied, pulling a face.

“Which was..?” He prompted.

“I whipped out my gun and fired a shot into the ceiling to get their attention.”

“You’re incredibly attractive when you pull fierce stunts like that, I do wish I’d seen you. Did it work?”

“Yes, somewhat. A number of people rushed out to find the source of the commotion, at which point I explained the situation to them, told them of the limited places on the lifeboats, and ordered them to get their arses in gear and get up to the top deck.”

“You sound positively magnificent so far. And they followed your orders?”

“Most of them, mainly the ones with children. Some challenged me, so I told them that they had nothing to lose by going upstairs and checking to see if my story was true, but possibly everything to lose if I was telling the truth. Word spread throughout the lower decks, and what happened next could only be described as pandemonium.  Everyone was rushing about the place, trying to get up the stairs, trying to bring as much of their belongings as possible. It was utter chaos.”

“And you? What did you do?”

“I tried to make sure that every child was wearing a life vest. People were panicking and the story was getting garbled somewhat, so many children were being shepherded to the stairs sans life jackets. I needed to make sure they’d be guaranteed some form of security. And most of the mothers were terrified, so they welcomed an extra pair of hands to help them out.” She shut her eyes. “When I tell you that those decks descended into chaos, I mean it in every sense of the word. People were shoving their way to the stairwells, stampeding their way to the lifeboats. Panic does horrible things to people, and I hold myself responsible for a degree of the horrors that occurred as they rushed to the lifeboats.”

“Helen, you were making sure they got to safety. You didn’t cause the panic, that would’ve happened as soon as they discovered the fate of the ship.”

“Yes, well, I imagine standing there with a gun in hand and barking orders hardly helped.”

“What happened after that?”

“By the time I followed the crowds to the top deck, we found that the majority of the lifeboats had already departed, barely filled. My priority then was to get the remaining women and their children onto whatever boats were left. Not an easy feat when they didn’t want to fill the boats to their proper capacity, and I’ve got dozens of women and children needing to be seated. At that point, things on the deck were getting nasty, the panic was giving way to violence, and a lot of fights began breaking out, with men trying to force their way onto boats, bringing their families with them. Next thing I knew, one of the men was pulling my gun from my pocket and firing it into the air, demanding that the boats be rushed, and their children saved. I tried to reclaim my pistol and was knocked into the crowd for my efforts. Once I regained my balance, I managed to knock it from his hand, and it fell overboard. Pity too, it was a beautiful thing, a gift from Nigel. After that, things were completely out of control, and there were people throwing themselves overboard, trying to swim after the departing boats. I tried to get to a boat myself, and I had two mothers and their children with me, but they only took the children, the final boats were being so densely packed, they couldn’t afford any more space. So, I had missed my chance to get on a lifeboat. But don’t think for a moment I regret it,” she told him quietly. “I’d have rather helped all those children than take my place on an earlier boat.”

“So, you were left on the sinking ship with no more lifeboats?” Nikola asked in a whisper, transfixed by her tale. “What happened next?”

“Once word got around that the boats were all gone, a lot jumped ship, still hoping to follow the boats. And while everyone had been panicking on the top deck, the water had been steadily rising, once we realised how much of the ship had filled, things got quite a bit scarier. The ship had lurched at an angle, and those left on board were sobbing, screaming that we were all going to die. And then, then I heard music. I could hear violins somewhere along the deck, but never did find out where the sound came from. Perhaps it was all in my head,” she sighed. “I was sure I was going to die there on that ship. Next thing we knew, with the ship titling towards the sea, a wave came out of nowhere, sweeping us off of our feet. I crashed into a railing, and I think I lost consciousness for a few minutes. A loud sound woke me, like a great big groan, and suddenly, the part of the ship that I was on was suspended high in the air. You remember that time we went on that Ferris Wheel at the fair in Paris? That was all I could remember in that moment, the swoop in my stomach as we were raised into the air. Once the noise stopped ringing in my ears, I looked down to see half the ship engulfed in water before the lights went out. I couldn’t see anyone after that, but I could _hear_ them, hear their screams as they fell into the water, hear the thuds as they crashed into parts of the ship below them. I just clung onto that bloody railing until I thought my arms would separate from their sockets, praying to who knows, I’ve never been much of a believer. But to be honest, I didn’t think science was going to help me then.”

Nikola’s face was pale, watching her with a rapt expression, unable to let the story end. “And then?”

“And then the ship split in half,” she told him, her voice shaking. “It gave an unbelievable screech, and broke apart. We ended up absolutely vertical above the ocean, clinging on for dear life. Then, we started to sink. It ended rather quickly, we were rushed downwards into the sea. God, it was so cold,” she croaked, staring unfocusedly above her. “I’ve never felt anything like it. Next thing I knew, I was submerged, trapped under the railing that had kept me from falling earlier. I tried to push past it, but the water was so filled with people, too densely packed to get around. Just as I managed to find a way around it and break the surface, I found myself being shoved back under the water once more by a man panicking without a life jacket, he’d put his weight on me, desperately trying to keep above the water. He was too heavy to dislodge in the position I was in, and my damned life jacket was floating in a way that pushed it up around my chin, leaving my arms up in an awkward angle. I couldn’t breathe, god, not a single breath. I thought I’d explode from the pressure in my chest, I don’t know what burned more – the cold, or the need for oxygen. And when everything was going a little black in my head, someone must have knocked him loose, and I got free, and managed to get to the surface.” Her chest felt tight the more she spoke, the panic of being submerged returning, and she swallowed uneasily. “I think the worst thing after that was the noise. A thousand terrified people screaming and thrashing in the water, all left behind to die. A thousand people were left behind because of their class,” she whispered. “We under filled the damned lifeboats with the rich, and deemed a thousand souls unworthy of saving? How do we justify that?” She demanded, voice shaking. “We laud ourselves on our humanity, the supremacy of humans. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a thing so frightening as humanity. How selfish we are, how materialistic and cold. That night, the importance of life was trumped by the importance we put on the measure of someone’s wealth. How is that alright?” Helen asked, tears falling from her eyes.

Nikola could only stare on in helpless horror, unable to give her the answers she needed. “They must have come back for some of you?” He asked, trying to piece together how Helen could have survived the acts of selfishness by those sent to safety.

“I don’t really remember. I feel like I floated there forever, lost amongst those desperate and damned people. I lost all feeling in my body rather quickly, I imagine due to the cold. I tried to tune out the sound of the splashes and screams, and must’ve passed out. My next recollection is being prodded by something hard, and waking to find a boat in front of me. There was an officer and a woman hanging out of the boat, trying to pull me towards them. I vaguely recognised her, Margaret Brown, I’d met her at a dinner on our first night on board. They managed to get me into the boat, with not much cooperation from me, I was utterly paralysed at that point. They sat me down, ordered a few other women to crowd around me, to warm me up, and again, I lost consciousness. My next memory is when we were brought on board the Carpathia.  Apparently, I was the only survivor Margaret’s boat managed to find. Though I wonder if the reason I was saved was because they recognised me as being one of them,” she added, disgust seeping into her tone.

“The first class passengers took the boats back to you all?”

“No. No, it seems that Mrs Brown left little room for negotiation and ordered the boat back. I don’t think many others shared her sentiment.”

“And you believe you were saved because of your class?”

“Nikola, there were over a thousand people left there. How on earth could I possibly have been the only viable survivor? Does anything other than class motivate these people? I was chosen above children, Nikola. Why was _I_ allowed to survive over all others? Answer me that! Why did I survive?” She demanded, voice breaking. “Why me?” She sobbed, crumpling in on herself, curling into the pillow.

Immediately, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his arms as she wept.

“Why me? Oh god, why did I survive when so many didn’t? They were all left to die!” Helen broke, burying her face in his chest, finally releasing everything she had been trying so desperately to hold back since the Titanic had struck the iceberg. Nikola could count the number of times Helen had broken down like this on one hand, and still have fingers left over. The enormity of what she had gone through was breath taking in its effect on her. There was nothing more he could do for her but soothe her as she sobbed herself to sleep, and hope that they could find some way to help her to cope with what she had experienced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed that! I tried to keep it as accurate to accounts as possible. And let me know if anything seemed off about my characterisation!  
> Thanks for reading. :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This morning, my New Years resolution was suddenly to update this frelling chapter.
> 
> Sorry for the awful delay - but it's my final year in law school, and exams will always come first, no matter how much I may love Teslen. There was also a bit more delay because I hit a wall.
> 
> Today, however, I powered through. It took SO MUCH historical research from everything like when allergies were first considered to exist, to the actual floorplans of the original Waldorf Astoria hotel. Because I am insane. I think we take for granted that things are always considered there for us - at this point of history, everything's a little blurred. Allergies were only just discovered, pre-made clothes were becoming a popular trend, everything was evolving. It's makes writing this era somewhat challenging (but still fun).
> 
> This is completely and utterly unbeta'd - and it's 6.30am here, so consider me exhausted. Let me know if there's any big issues with it!
> 
> Also, I hope the characterisation is okay. I decided to focus on a huge aspect of an issue for a character. This was a last minute decision, one which intrigued me, and I felt the need to pursue it further.
> 
> THANKS FOR YOUR PATIENCE, ENJOY! :)

When Helen awoke the next morning, she found herself wrapped tightly in Nikola’s arms, her face buried in the crook of his neck. Tiredly, she nuzzled closer to his throat, placing an errant kiss against his warm skin. Glancing up at him, she found him fast asleep, a novelty she had not seen in quite some time. He’d always looked so serene and youthful when sleeping, even when his boyish grin and mischievous eyes were absent from view. When he was sleeping, she could almost imagine they were still back at Oxford, crashing into naps following night-long marathons in the labs, he was so unchanged in slumber. Minus that horrid moustache of course.

She lay there for a while, watching her dear companion sleeping, recalling her state the night before. Voicing what had occurred on the ship had taken a great deal from her, and she was glad that when she had exposed such a tremendous deal of vulnerability, it had been with Nikola. He’d always had a knack with her that she was grateful for. She needed him a great deal more than she had ever let on, and, in that moment, was beyond delighted that they had finally been reunited, even under such horrific circumstances.

“My, Miss Magnus, I know I’m incredibly handsome, but must you stare at me so while I sleep?” He murmured, peering down at her with amused electric blue eyes.

Helen started, and gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, didn’t realise you’d woken up. I was rather lost in my thoughts, I’m afraid.”

“I think the volume of your thoughts is what woke me, dear Helen,” he joked, brushing his palm along her spine. “What was it that was occupying your thoughts so much this early?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know,” she replied, rolling out of his grasp to lie on her back.

“Many men would give their limbs to have an insight into the mind of one Helen Magnus, you know,” he replied, tracing circles along her arm.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Is that so? And would you count yourself amongst those foolish, wasteful and rather nosy gentlemen, Mr Tesla?”

“Of course not, my dear. I alone have the privilege of already understanding you completely, you see,” he grinned.

Helen huffed a laugh, shaking her head at him. “That’s quite the claim.”

“And of course, you hold the same privilege when it comes to me,” he allowed, propping his up head in his hand, curling towards her.

“Unfortunately,” she teased, poking at his bare chest. “I hope you appreciate how well I’ve put up with you so far.”

He caught her hand in his, trapping her palm over his heart. “How mean,” he pouted. “And here I was labouring under the illusion you enjoyed my company.”

Helen gave a little hum, feigning disinterest. “I would imagine you were more so labouring under a _delusion_ , Mr Tesla. I never gave the slightest inkling to suggest as much.”

Nikola was unable to hide a smirk at her game. “Oh really?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I’ll have to remedy that,” he grinned, angling closer to her, still keeping her hand snared against his chest.

“And might I ask how you’ll –” her question was cut off as Nikola rolled over her, pressing his lips to hers. She laughed into his mouth, surprised to suddenly find herself trapped beneath the vampire. She squirmed as he planted wet kisses along her throat, but he held her hands captive between their bodies, making escape quite impossible. He chuckled against her neck, his own hand finding her waist and holding her to him. 

“An effective method, don’t you think?”

She shrieked as he tickled a path along her waist, trying to dislodge the vampire’s hold on her. “When I get my hands free, I’ll murder you,” she gasped.

“Best of luck with that endeavour,” he smirked, stealing a kiss.

“Bastard,” she sighed, before succumbing to laughter once more as he continued his attack.

A knock at the front door distracted the Serb, and as he glanced towards the living room, Helen took advantage of the opportunity and used her weight to throw them both from the bed. They toppled over the side of the mattress, tangling in the sheets and the curtains. Nikola stared up at her in surprise as she waved her freed hands in triumph.

“Gotcha,” she grinned, now pinning the vampire to the ground.

“You damned sneak,” Nikola accused.

Helen leaned over him, catching both of his wrists to hold them to the floor on either side of his head. She arched an eyebrow at him. “All’s fair, darling.”

Before he could reply, there was another knock at the door. Nikola looked over in annoyance. “Ah, the source of my downfall,” he lamented.

Chuckling, Helen climbed off of him, freeing his hands. “Better go answer it,” she ordered, walking out the living room.

He jumped to his feet, staring after her. “You’re so bossy.”

Standing at the sofa, she pulled on the nightgown she had abandoned the night before, throwing him a pointed look. “You need to be bossed about. Now, put something on and answer the door.”

He rolled his eyes and made to open the door, but Helen grabbed his wrist. “What?”

“Nikola, I beg you not to answer the door while nude. The staff here have enough to contend with while looking after you without that in their memories.”

“It’s hardly the first time, Helen.”

She closed her eyes. “Good lord. It’s a wonder you haven’t been arrested for indecency yet,” she sighed, shoving him back into the bedroom. “Look, I’ll answer the door. You can make yourself presentable.” With Nikola safely ensconced in his room, she turned to the front door, opening it. “Good morning. I’m terribly sorry for the delay,” she smiled to the bellhop and maid waiting at the door.

 “Good morning, ma’am. We have Mr Tesla’s laundry, and the breakfast order.”

Helen stepped back from the door, gesturing for her to come inside. “Thank you. I don’t recall either of us ordering breakfast this morning.”

“Mr Tesla sent down for the order last night,” the maid replied as the bellhop wheeled the cart into the room. “Where shall I put the laundry, ma’am?”

“I’ll take that,” Helen offered, taking the crisp white laundry bag in her arms.

Behind her, the bedroom door opened, and Nikola stepped out, clad in his silk robe. “Ah, guten morgen!” He greeted, sweeping towards them. “Oliver, Mary,” he nodded to the staff.

Helen rolled her eyes at him, setting the laundry bag on the sofa as her companion tipped the staff.

Skirting around the breakfast cart, Nikola appeared behind Helen, nudging her waist. “Satisfied?” He asked, gesturing to his robe.

“Positively ecstatic,” she replied drily. “Now hush up and eat your breakfast.”

The vampire did as he was told, and breakfast passed quickly. Afterwards, Helen got to her feet, leaning over her friend to peck him on the cheek. “Is it alright if I head out for a while to get a few things?”

“Of course. There’s some money in my desk, take all you’ll need,” he replied, head lolling back on his chair as he glanced up at her.

“You’re being uncommonly generous,” she remarked in amusement, patting him on the shoulders. “I wonder how long this period of grace will continue.”

“Ah, for you, sweet Helen, always,” he declared, grabbing her hand and kissing it.

Snorting, she pulled her hand away and smacked his head gently. “You forget how well I know you.” Turning to the laundry bag, she opened it, peeking inside. “My clothes have been returned to me, thank you for having them seen to, Nikola. Have you any plans for the day?” She asked, walking towards the bedroom.

Nikola followed, as he always did, and would likely always do. “A few errands, yes. And I plan to check on a project today. Shall I meet you for lunch after your shopping?” He asked, sitting on the bed as she dressed. “Say, one pm?”

Helen nodded. “Perfect. Where shall I meet you?”

“In the hotel lobby and we’ll work out the details from there?” He suggested as she turned to face the mirror.

“Alright then,” she smiled at his reflection, pulling back her hair, twisting it into some semblance of control. “You haven’t got a pin or anything I can use to keep my hair in place?”

Nikola frowned, glancing around the room. “I might have something…” He stood up, and rifled through the drawer of his bedside cabinet. “A-ha. This should do,” he waved something small in the air. Moving to stand behind her, he placed his hand over hers where it was holding her loose hair in place. “A tie clip, my dear,” he grinned.

Helen laughed. “That will have to do, I suppose.” She let him take over, watching him through the mirror in bemusement as he gathered her hair back, letting the bottom half fall around her shoulders. Grasping the top section of her hair gently, he slid the tie clip over it, pinning it carefully in place.

“There,” he murmured, tugging lightly on an errant curl. “Perfect.”

She smiled, leaning back to rest against him. “Why, Nikola, I believe we’ve found you a new career path. Perhaps you should give all that tinkering a rest and explore some new avenues?”

“Have I mentioned what an utterly wicked woman you are?” He asked, kissing her cheek.

“Is that a complaint?”

“Me? Complain? Never.”

Helen laughed, turning her head to the side to look at him. He shot her an innocent look, swaying them slowly where they stood.  “That would be the day.”

He pulled a face. “Pointing out a man’s flaws is a highly unflattering trait, Miss Magnus.”

She snorted a laugh, extricating herself from him. “That’s _Doctor_ Magnus, darling.”

“My sincerest apologies,” he replied, rolling his eyes.

“I saw that. Now, I should really make a start on my shopping.”

“Shall I have a car arranged for you?” He asked, reaching into his desk to pull out some money.

“Given that we’re in New York, I assume that the places I wish to visit are within walking distance of the hotel?”

Nikola inclined his head in agreement, passing the money to her. “One could assume so.”

“Very well then. I’d rather walk, I need the fresh air anyway. I haven’t left this suite once since my arrival.”

“Afraid people will talk?” He asked, throwing her a salacious grin.

Helen rolled her eyes. “I’m sure your usual antics alone are more than enough to keep people talking, Nikola. So, lunch at one?”

“Lunch at one,” he smiled.

“Alright, see you then.” She threw him a wink and left the room. In the living room, she nabbed one of his coats that had been left hanging by the door. Of course, Nikola would complain at the theft, but she’d become rather accustomed to Nikola’s complaints after all this time. Slipping the heavy black coat on, she buttoned it up, and headed out into the empty hallway of the third floor. Her lips quirked into a smile, and she shook her head as she noted the number of his hotel room. The man had never changed. Crossing the hallway, she called the elevator, errantly fiddling with a button on the coat, noting it to be the same coat that she had been cocooned in upon their reunion. A tightness formed in her chest as the memory of disembarking the Carpathia flashed through her mind. With it came the burning in her throat at the remembrance of icy sea water, the panic and terror as the ship was swallowed by the Atlantic. She braced her hand against the wall, as her breath found itself crushed within her lungs, her head spinning until the carpet before her was washed away in a wave of cold, dark water.

“Madam, do you need assistance?”

Helen’s head snapped up, the panic rushing from her to be replaced with alarm. She realised she was bent over, one hand clutching at the wall, the other fisted against her sternum as she gasped for breath. Straightening, she shook her head at the young man operating the elevator. Shakily, she stepped inside, wondering at when it had arrived.

“I’m quite alright, thank you. I think my allergies may have been provoked, that’s all,” she replied with a tight smile.

He nodded, and closed the door. “Alright, madam. Which floor?”

“The lobby, if you please,” she murmured, glancing away from him.

The journey downwards was made in silence, with Helen calling upon all her willpower to keep her anxieties away. She’d had quite a great deal of practice, after all. How else could she have soldiered through the aftermath of the Ripper is she hadn’t learnt how to push aside her nightmares? And so she stood, back straight, shoulders squared, and she kept breathing. As long as she kept breathing, the water couldn’t claim her.

The elevator reached its destination, and as the bellboy opened the doors, she rushed out with a terse word of gratitude. In the opulent lobby, she sucked in a deep breath, relishing the open space. Side-stepping an elderly couple, she quickened her pace across the marbled floor, brushing past the finely dressed guests, and making a beeline for the main entrance. The long hallway seemed to stretch impossibly as she walked, her destination seemingly further and further away. She gritted her teeth, and shook off her ridiculous apprehension, and carried on. The high number of sombre gentleman lingering about in their varying shades of charcoal and grey distracted her, and she cast a curious eye over them. As far as she could recall, it was a Saturday. What business would draw so many on the weekend? A number of them were throwing irritated looks towards their pocket watches, but Helen looked away as she neared the door. Returning a strained smile as the friendly doorman greeted her, she stepped through the glass doors into the biting air of New York City.

The rush and bustle around her on the city street was a welcome reminder of London, and she took comfort in the familiarity. Glancing around herself, she got her bearings and set off along the street.

The hours passed and Helen found herself making her way back to the hotel, laden with her purchases. Stepping inside, she glanced over at the ornate clock resting on the wall of the lobby, she still had half an hour until she had to meet Nikola for lunch. Politely refusing the offer of aid with her bags from a bellboy, she carried on through the foyer. However, a small sign standing by the staircase drew her attention, one word leaping out amongst all the others, and she felt a wave of nausea pass through her. Almost against her own volition, she found herself approaching the sign, taking in its contents.

_United States Senate inquiry into the sinking of the RMS Titanic at 10.30AM in the Grand Ballroom, the First Floor._

Helen swallowed, feeling the marble tiles swaying beneath her feet. She straightened up, focusing past the swirling dizziness filling her head. “Come on, old girl,” she muttered under her breath. “You are _better_ than this. Stop it, right now.”

Inhaling deeply, she looked over to the elevators, and then found her gaze being drawn towards the elegant staircase instead. Her heart began to pound, deafening her ears with the maelstrom of emotions rushing inside her, setting her blood crashing in her ears like waves. Letting her purchases fall softly to the floor, she headed towards the stairs, climbing the steps like a woman lost in a trance. One of her hands trailed along the polished banister, as she neared the carpeted peak of the staircase. Her feet met the soft flooring, and she glanced around the corridor.

“Need help, miss?” A passing maid asked.

“The ballroom?” Helen heard herself ask, her own voice so distant over the sound of waves lapping around them. She turned around to discover the source of the water, but found none.

“That’s the door at the end of this corridor, ma’am. Are you alright?”

Helen brushed past her, eyes on the white door left ajar at the end of the hallway.

“Shall I fetch someone for you?”

The maid’s question went unheard as Helen pushed forward with the singular determination that had served her so well all her life thus far. She tried to will the crashing in her head away, but the water was as resolved to win as she. It roared around her, threatening to fill her lungs as her chest ached and her throat burned. Shutting her eyes, she searched for something to focus on, anything to pull her away. Her Sanctuary. The smell of James’ pipe. A cup of tea. Her laboratory. Nikola’s sly grin. Nikola. She could hear him, his voice echoing somewhere amongst the waves. “ _Breathe, Helen. You’re safe. Breathe in, ljubav. You’re safe now, you’re safe. Breathe_ …”

Her mouth fell open, and she drew in a deep breath, her eyes snapping open. The carpet beneath her feet was dry and solid, the waves in her head silenced. That was all she had to do, focus on breathing. Just keep breathing.

Finding herself grounded, the disorientation cast off, she carried on down the hallway, counting even breaths in her head to stave off the ocean. One half of the double doors to enter the ballroom had been left ajar, and Helen could hear a voice within. Stepping inside, she brushed past a number of men standing by the exit, sitting down in a seat near the back of the room.

“Did Mr Philips return from the deck?” An austere looking man was asking across a large table, its seats jammed to the full with gentlemen.

“Yes, sir,” came the quiet reply from the young man before him. With a start of surprise, Helen recognised the fellow seated to his left as Guglielmo Marconi, one of Nikola’s rivals.

“To the room?” The questioner prompted.

“Yes, sir.”

The man directing the questioning nodded. “What did he say to you then?”

The younger man swallowed. “He told us he thought it was time we put on our lifebelts.”

Discomfort pooled in Helen’s stomach, and she itched to leave the room, but found herself quite rooted in her seat.

_Just keep breathing._

“Did you act upon his suggestion?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And both of you put on lifebelts?”

Helen leaned towards the gentleman beside her. “Pardon my intrusion, but may I ask who the younger gentleman in question is?” She inquired as the young man gave his reply in the affirmative.

“Ah certainly, miss. He was the junior officer operating Marconi’s system on the ship. Think his name is Bride.”

She nodded her thanks, returning her gaze to the main event.

“At that time had all the lifeboats been lowered?” The questioner put forward, sending a chill through Helen.

_Breathe. Just breathe._

“I could not say, sir,” Mr Bride replied reluctantly.

“You paid no attention to the lifeboats?”

Somewhere in the distance, a wave crashed, its cymbal sound reverberating through Helen’s bones.

“Mr. Phillips told me that things looked very queer outside. Beyond that I knew nothing.”

_Breathe._

The interviewer seemed incredulous. “How did you interpret the word ‘queer’?”

The water was flooding into the ballroom, sloshing around their ankles.

“The sooner we were out of it the better.”

Helen tensed in her seat, clenching her knuckles, as the deluge rose up around her ready to swallow her whole.

She opened her mouth to draw in a deep breath, and met briny seawater in its stead.

And the wave crashed over her…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Helen is suffering from PTSD! Which isn't technically a thing for a few more decades. But I've been building to this slowly, and this chapter suddenly felt like the right chance to explore it, as she left the sanctuary of Tesla's suite.
> 
> Dialogue from the inquiry is an actual excerpt from the Senate hearing in the Grand Ballroom. It all happened - imagine my writer's glee to later discover that Nikola was staying in the hotel where they held the hearing. I had to make use of the opportunity.
> 
> I was also researching Mr Harold Bride, the young wireless operator being questioned, to get a sense of his age, and found a photo of him at the inquiry, with Marconi sitting right beside him! Pretty interesting!
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope this chapter was worth the horrendous wait!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand she finally updates! Sorry about the delay, college is keeping me extremely busy and this was a tough chapter to get through. I hope you enjoy it. It takes us back a few hours to Nikola's perspective!  
> Unbeta'd, and very quickly finished before my EU Law class, so let me know if there's any big mistakes!

_Earlier…_

Nikola drummed his fingers along the dresser, listening as the front door clicked shut behind Helen. A thought had been flitting through his mind since last night, and in the light of morning, it was forming into a plan of sorts. Sending a brief message down to the concierge for some information to help furnish his burgeoning plan, he headed into the bathroom to bathe.

Lying in the ornate tub, he traced the surface of the steaming water pensively. Helen’s ordeal had left him feeling useless, something he was unaccustomed to. Last night, she had had two more nightmares after the first – one which resulted in a heart-wrenching scream being ripped from her lungs. It had terrified him, and left him watching over her all through the night as she tossed and turned in distress. By dawn, he was so tired, he had slipped into sleep effortlessly, only to wake to Helen’s bright eyes fixed on him thoughtfully.  This morning, she had been so playful and content, he wondered if she even remembered screaming loudly into the darkness of their room. Perturbed, Nikola lay in the water until it chilled, pondering his plan once more.

Once bathed, dried and dressed, he went to leave the suite, but found his black coat had vanished. “That thieving harlot,” he smiled, pulling on his grey overcoat instead.

Hurrying down to the lobby, he hovered impatiently at the end of the concierge desk as Edwin dealt with another guest. He glanced at his pocket watch – it was just turning ten am, which gave him three hours of grace before he was expected for lunch. He figured he could indulge himself two hours working in the lab, and then an hour to execute his plan.

“Mr Tesla, how may I help you?”

“Good morning, Edwin. Perhaps I could trouble you with a reservation in the restaurant for one pm?”

“For yourself and Miss Magnus?”

“If you could, please. And I was wondering if you had procured that particular information I had asked for this morning?”

Edwin nodded, pulling a small white memo from the surface of the desk. “Indeed, I have. I hope this is to your liking,” he handed the card to Nikola.

“A fine job, as always. Perhaps you could arrange a car to take me there at, say, noon? I’ll meet the driver outside.”

“Of course, I’ll have that arranged for you now.”

“Excellent. Thank you, Edwin. I’ll see you later.”

“Enjoy your day, Mr Tesla.”

With a grateful nod, Nikola swept away, across the lobby, and through the grand exit. Traversing the familiar steps to his concealed laboratory, Nikola let himself fall into the distraction of routine. Once inside the lab, the well-accustomed practice of bringing his plans to life served to soothe his rattling concerns about Helen’s well-being. The manual activity cleared his mind somewhat, helping him to approach the situation from a better angle, helping him to look at Helen’s predicament from all aspects. He fiddled contentedly in his lab, until the ticking clock drew him back to the present, and his pressing obligations.

Securing his lab in his wake, Nikola headed back to the hotel, just in time to see Walter beckoning him over to the luxurious black motor car.

“Mr Tesla,” he nodded in greeting.

“Ah, Walter, ready for another excursion? I promise that today’s destination isn’t so terribly gloomy as the last,” he smirked, sliding into the back seat.

Walter chuckled, shutting the door behind the inventor, before clambering into the driver’s seat himself. “Ready to go, sir?”

“Onwards, if you will.”

And together, they drove from the hotel, out to the far reaches of the city, where the buildings didn’t aspire to tower over humanity like great titans, and Mother Nature was rather braver, seizing more chances to flourish and claiming the land as its own.

His source had revealed the reason for his journey to be ensconced safely in a rather lovely house, lingering on the edges of society. The house was not her own, but merely generously gifted by a friend in her time of need. As the pulled up the house, it was almost hidden from view, by an abundance of trees and plants trailing over the red brick walls, veiling the gate so as to hide its occupants from view.

“I hope to be in and out rather quickly,” Nikola informed Walter, hopping out of the car.

He opened the gate, frowning at the groan of protest its hinges gave. The gravel was thick beneath his feet, crunching loudly beneath his tread, giving word to all of his approach. Reaching the heavy oak door, he raised the knocker, rapping two loud sharp beats.

There was a moment of silence before a shuffle of movement was heard from within, and the door opened slowly to reveal an elderly gentleman.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“I’m here to see Mrs Brown, is she available?”

The man frowned slightly. “I’m afraid not. May I ask who you are?”

“Nikola Tesla. Are you sure I can’t see her, it’s rather important?”

“I’m sure it’s very important, sir. But I’m afraid she cannot see you right now. I’ll let her know of your visit, however, and perhaps she will arrange another meeting day. Good day, sir.”

The door was softly closed in Nikola’s face, and he gave a low growl of displeasure. The indignity of him being refused! Ignored! Nikola Tesla! Tamping down the urge to push the door back open and make a number of snide comments at the expense of the man’s mother, he spun on his heel, and marched down the steps.

“You said your name was Tesla?” A voice from behind him asked.

He looked back to find a woman standing in the now-open doorway, sizing him up.

“I did,” he replied warily.

“Nikola Tesla? That scrawny inventor from Europe?” She asked in a soft drawl.

He straightened self-consciously, hackles rising once more at her unfair appraisal.

“I am Nikola Tesla, the inventor, _yes_ ,” he replied tightly.

She nodded thoughtfully at him. “I’ve heard a bit about you, you’re an admirable fellow. I appreciate anyone who understands the importance of hard work.”

The compliment softened him somewhat towards the woman as he shot her a measuring glance. “I’m afraid I can’t say I’ve heard of you,” he admitted.

“Well, then why are you out here knocking on my door?”

“Ah, Mrs Brown?”

“He’s a smart one,” she sighed. “Now, pleasantries aside, again I ask what brings an inventor to my door, Mr Tesla?”

“My visit is a by-product of recent events, I’m afraid.”

“A change of careers, is it?” Margaret asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m afraid I’ve already had my say to the newspapers, Mr Tesla. I’m sure you’ll see it in the next few days.”

“Fear not, Mrs Brown, I’m not here on behalf of the press. The reason behind my visit more so concerns the woman you pulled from the water.”

Margaret’s eyes narrowed slightly, assessing him. “I don’t believe I mentioned that in any of my interviews. So, I take it you’ve spoken to a few others from the ship. You mind telling me why you’re so damn interested about all this?”

“Actually, I’m rather closely acquainted with the woman in question, Helen Magnus.”

“How’s she doing?”

“She’s alive. An achievement which I believe can be attributed to you, ma’am.”

“Call me Maggie,” she replied with a wave of her hand. “And it wasn’t all me anyway. She was still hanging on, the only one we could find who was still alive.”

“Yes, well, Helen Magnus has never been the type to give up. She’s a rather stubborn thing that way,” Nikola smiled.

“A damn fine trait in a woman, I’ve always thought.”

“A sentiment we both share. From what I hear, you ordered the boat back to look for survivors.”

“They shouldn’t have to be ordered to do it,” Margaret replied, jaw clenching in displeasure.

“Indeed they should not,” Nikola replied softly, feeling a pang of empathy towards this woman who was just as aware of the selfish injustice of humanity as he. “But I am glad that you saw fit to correct their failings.”

“Almost got me thrown overboard for my efforts. Those bastards would rather save their own hides than risk going back to help others. They were afraid we’d be overturned by them.”

“I’m rather surprised that the combined weight of silver spoons on that boat didn’t capsize the damn thing.”

Margaret grinned. “Always thought I’d like you, Mr Tesla.”

“Nikola,” he corrected, stepping forward to offer his hand to her. He expected her to extend hers, waiting for him to take a hold of it and press a polite kiss to the back of her hand. He wasn’t entirely surprised though when she grasped his hand firmly and shook it, as though they were two gentlemen doing business. Nikola found himself in the rather rare position of realising he quite admired the person before him. Not only had Margaret Brown rescued Helen from the icy waters of the Atlantic, but she held herself with fierce independence and formidability, traits he held with great regard in women.

“I dined with Dr Magnus while I was aboard, you know. I think it was the second night, and we were sat next to each other and got talking. Quite an interesting lady,” Margaret remarked.

“That she is,” Nikola agreed.

“You know her well?”

“As well as one can know another, and perhaps, even more so.”

Margaret looked at him shrewdly. “I hadn’t realised Dr Magnus was involved with any man.”

Rather wishing to protect his own private life, and spare himself from his companion’s wrath should the contents of the exchange reach her at a later time, Nikola shook his head. “Mine and Helen’s relationship stems from our time studying together. She’s quite the scientist, you see.”

“I’d noticed. She was a real pleasure to talk to, a nice change from the usual fare of our class.”

“Indeed she is.”

“So, where is the fine Dr Magnus? I’m afraid I lost track of her once we got onto the Carpathian, they said she was practically frozen stiff.”

“She’s out shopping today, actually, replacing the clothing she lost.”

“Ah, it’s good to hear she’s out and about. She seems like a tough sorta gal. I’m surprised she sent you here though, rather than coming to see me herself.”

Nikola pulled a face. “Well, Helen doesn’t know I’m paying you a visit. I took this venture upon myself without telling her, you see.”

“Why so?”

“To simply thank you. You saved Helen’s life, an act of immeasurable value to me. And I hope you never repeat my words to another, but quite frankly, I owe you a great debt for saving the one person of great importance to me,” he admitted, looking away from the woman.

“Well, I’m happy to hear I’ve done something worthwhile, Mr Tesla. And think nothing of it, I’m just happy I could save at least one person.”

“Please be assured that if there is anything I can do for you, my services are entirely yours.” 

“I didn’t save her so I’d be owed any favours –” She began, before Nikola interjected.

“I know you didn’t. Regardless, you have my gratitude.”

“She must be important to you,” Margaret observed.

“Yes,” he replied quietly. “She is.”

“I’d like to see her again, if she’d be open to that?”

“Perhaps you could join us for lunch? I have a reservation this afternoon?”

Margaret smiled. “Thanks for the offer, darlin’, but I’m afraid I’m already running late for a prior engagement. I was on my way out to the Titanic hearing when you showed up.”

“In the Waldorf Astoria? That happens to be where I’m staying and where the reservation is. The very least I could do is perhaps offer to have my driver take you there?”

“Very well then, Mr Tesla. Let me just grab my hat and coat, and I’ll be right there.”

Nikola nodded, glancing at his pocket watch as Margaret gathered her things and bade farewell to her butler. It was nearing one pm already, which caused a stirring of displeasure in Nikola – he so rarely arrived late to any engagement, nor did he wish for Helen to delight in his apparent fault of tardiness. However, perhaps it could not be helped in this situation.

Margaret bustled out the front door, closing it loudly behind her as she pulled on a thick black coat. “Now, Mr Tesla, where’s this car of yours?”

He led her down the steps and out onto the street where the luxurious motorcar was idling in wait. Beating his driver to the punch, he held the door open for Margaret, gesturing for her to go ahead. He followed her, sliding into the backseat, straightening his jacket as he sat.

“Back to the hotel, if you could, Walter?”

“Right away, sir.”

“So, Mr Tesla,” she began, eyeing him up. “I’ve heard plenty about your reputation as a hard worker, but just as much about what a disagreeable fella you can be to work with. Imagine my surprise today,” she said with a grin.

Nikola scoffed. “I am hardly disagreeable, merely often found surrounded by imbeciles with neither vision nor discernible talent.”

Margaret gave a low whistle. “Got pretty high standards, huh? Must make it difficult to do business in your line of work.”

He flashed her a grin, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light of the car. “I can be a gentleman when needs be.”

“A useful trait in business.”

“Indeed. You’re quite the force to be reckoned with as well, from what I hear.”

“I think it’s often an exaggeration, Mr Tesla. You see, any woman who dares to stand up and be heard, and doesn’t let any man tell her what to do or say, is often perceived as an indomitable loudmouth. Although, J.J. would likely say otherwise about me.”

“Ah, your husband? He runs in a similar field to mine, I believe.”

“An engineer,” she nodded. “Dabbles in inventing too. He’s mentioned you quite a few times – he admires your work, and I admire your ethic.”

“Well, I’m glad I’ve impressed the Browns so,” Nikola replied, looking out the window to conceal the self-satisfied smile blooming on his lips.

“You’re an impressive fella. And you musta done something good to impress a lady like Dr Magnus. I take it you were the gentleman friend she was visiting?”

“I beg your pardon?” Nikola feigned confusion.

“Oh, please,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand. “She mentioned at dinner that she was reuniting with some fella in New York she hadn’t seen in a while. Seemed awfully pleased about it too.”

“And you assume the man in question was me?”

“She’s staying with you, isn’t she?” Margaret challenged.

Nikola cleared his throat. “While Helen may be an independent and contemporary woman in nature, she does rather like to maintain her reputation somewhat. It doesn’t do well for a woman in her position to be assumed to—”

Margaret nudged him. “Relax, will ya? You don’t think I’m going to go around yelling that Dr Magnus is some kinda hussy shacking up with inventors, do ya? I believe that she should be allowed to do whatever it is she likes, and I suspect most of the time she does, but I also know that a woman’s reputation is a very fragile thing. And there’s a lot of people out there who would be happy to find fault in women like her and I. Relax, I’m passing no judgements here.”

“I apologise. I’m afraid Helen has rather impressed upon me the need to keep her status intact. A ridiculous necessity imposed on women,” he muttered.

“You seem like the sensible type, Mr Tesla,” Margaret nodded in the approval.

“It is my understanding that one day, women will rule the world, and rightfully so. And I look forward to the day that power is taken from those ignorant enough to try and hold them back.”

“Well, damn,” Margaret laughed. “Ain’t Helen a lucky lady. Tell me, do you prepare the dinner and bathe the babes as well?”

Nikola was aghast. “Infants are little more than a breeding ground for germs, and what point is there in preparing your own meals, when room service is so readily available.”

“And you were so close to being perfect,” she sighed ruefully.

He pulled a face. “Placing you and Helen in the same room would be positively fatal to my ego,” he muttered.

She chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now how about you tell me all about your most recent work?”

Always happy to find himself an attentive audience, Nikola began to talk, the rest of the journey filled with his explanations and her engaging questions. The discussion came to a halt as the motorcar slowed to a stop outside the hotel, and they made their way into the lobby.

Glancing at his pocket watch, Nikola frowned. “I seem to be running a little late for my reservation. Shall you be heading immediately to the inquiry, or could you spare yourself an hour of your time for lunch?”

“I told one of the gentlemen there I’d get to it as soon as possible, but I wouldn’t mind waiting around to see Helen briefly.”

Nodding, Nikola led her towards the hotel’s restaurant. Inside the maître d’ recognised him and gestured them towards Nikola’s usual table in the corner, which as yet held no patrons.

“Mr Tesla.”

“Thank you, George. Has Dr Magnus not arrived yet? A tall woman, blonde curls, English accent?”

“I’m afraid not, sir. I shall direct her immediately towards this table should she arrive.”

Nikola nodded his thanks, and took his seat across from Margaret. “It’s unusual for me to be late for anything, as it is for Helen. We’re rather meticulous about our punctuality, you see,” he told her, frowning as he looked over at the restaurant entrance.

“You’re worried about her.”

He glanced at Margaret, her intelligent brown eyes not missing a beat. James Watson would most definitely meet his match in her. “May I ask a most intrusive question, Margaret?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“After what happened aboard the Titanic, how are you faring, for lack of a better phrase?”

“You wanna know how I’m doing? I’m alive, aren’t I?”

Nikola’s lips twisted into a half-smile. “Yes. But past the point of living, I was hoping you could tell me if your experience has left you in any way… distressed?”

“I haven’t slept yet since the ship went down if that’s what you mean.” The overly casual tone of her voice still belayed a frayed edge beneath the surface, a warning sign not to push too far.

He nodded understandingly, casting a wary eye towards the doorway before carrying on. “I am worried about Helen. Incredibly so, and it’s not often something I feel towards her. She’s a damn capable person who would be hindered by others flapping around her, trying to coddle her. But I find myself worried she won’t recover from this.”

“Is she sleeping? Has she been ill?”

“She sleeps, yes. But only to be disturbed by nightmares which leave her fighting against invisible waves, gasping for breath. She’s been screaming in her sleep, but I don’t think she even realises. Things so rarely knock Helen off her stride so, and I’m not exactly the kind of person who knows how to address these things the right way.”

“I find a strong whiskey and someone there to listen and hold your hand goes a long way. It’s obvious you care about her, Mr Tesla. All you can do is be there for her, I’m sure she appreciates that.”

“Perhaps, should she speak to you, find a kindred soul from her experience, it may help.”

Margaret nodded. “It may. Hell, I could do with talking to someone who was there myself. Neither of us are gonna forget any of it quickly, I promise you that.”

Leaning back in his seat, Nikola tapped his fingers on the table. “Thank you for understanding my request, and also allowing my intrusive curiosity.”

She huffed a laugh. “I get the feeling you ain’t the kind of fella who often apologises for going too far.”

He gave a wry smile. “Perhaps not, but I find myself making exceptions in the right circumstances.”

“You mean, when the situation relates to Helen?” She guessed astutely.

“Am I so transparent?”

“Oh, sonny, have you got it bad!” She laughed. “I’m looking forward to seeing the look on your face when she walks into the room. I imagine you’ll look like a kid on Christmas!”

Nikola scowled. “It seems I am to be perpetually surrounded by women who delight in taunting me and laughing at my expense,” he sighed, casting a look at his watch once more. “It’s half past one, and there’s no sign of Helen. How very unlike her.”

“Perhaps she was tired after her outing and simply fell asleep on her return? I’ve been exhausted myself all week.”

“Perhaps. And perhaps, I should endeavour to check upon her?”

Margaret nodded her agreement, rising from her seat. “Let’s go, then, shall we?”

Leaving a message with the maître d’ to send for him should Helen arrive at the restaurant, the pair headed back to the lobby, seeking out the concierge.

“Edwin?”

The concierge turned around to face them. “Ah, Mr Tesla, good afternoon, finished your lunch already?”

“I haven’t yet begun, actually. Dr Magnus is running rather late from her shopping trip, I was wondering whether she’d checked in to collect the spare key yet?”

Scanning the array of door keys shining from where they hung on hooks behind him, Edwin shook her head. “I’m afraid not. Were you expecting her back soon?”

“We had a reservation for one, I’m rather surprised she has yet to appear. There’s been no sign of her?”

“I can ask the staff, one moment please.” He retreated into the door behind the desk, as Nikola stared up at the grand clock above them.

“Perhaps Helen was distracted while out?”

“She’s far from a frivolous person, I assure you. And should she be unavoidably delayed, she’d ensure a message reaches me with the details of such an issue.”

The truth was, as Nikola watched the clock ticking steadily, measuring the seconds as they slipped away from him, panic was buzzing in the back of his mind. The sense of danger that had barely abated since the demise of the great ship still lurked ominously within him. Suddenly, he was reminded of the late 1880’s, of his immense fear every time Helen was late, every time she did not answer her door. Above him, the ticking clock was beating louder and louder, the swish of a blade in the air, the sound of a fist striking soft flesh. Because what if John was still lurking about? What if he had found Helen, and had torn a hole in the universe, cloaked in that poisonous red haze? Had he simply appeared behind Helen, as she was admiring a sturdy pair of gloves, the practical sort that she tended towards? Had he grasped her and pulled her back into nothingness with him, before she could even sense the displacement? The thoughts of John finding Helen reared their ugly head all too frequently in Nikola’s mind’s eye. It was years before he could rest easy at night, continents apart from her, without worrying that the beast they’d befriended had tracked her down and spilt her insides onto the cobbles of London. He’d seen the pictures of the victims in James diary, when snooping once or twice, he’d seen those nightmarish sepia images that had left James shouting in his sleep, sent him hurtling into a white cloud of addiction. It had taken so long not to picture Helen’s sweet face juxtaposed over those inert, destroyed bodies.

Margaret’s hand placed softly on his arm jarred him from his ruminations. “Take it easy there, son. You’ve gone a little pale. I’m sure she’s just fine.”

“Of course,” he muttered, forcing the images of carved-up call girls from his mind as Edwin approached them.

“One of the maids found a number of bags left abandoned on the floor in the foyer, it seems. You said Dr Magnus had gone out to purchase some clothing?”

Nikola nodded, clenching the edge of the desk hard enough that he could feel the brass edge giving way beneath his fingers. Suddenly, the narrative had changed, John Druitt was flashing into existence in the ornate lobby, uncaring of who saw his appearing act. He was grabbing Helen from behind, her purchases falling from her grasp as he pulled her into oblivion…

“Mr Tesla…”

He glanced up in surprise, the story shattered. “Sorry?”

“Dr Magnus, was she wearing a large black overcoat by any chance?”

“Yes. Yes, it was mine.” Perhaps there were witnesses, people who saw the enchanting blonde, cloaked in an unknown man’s coat, perhaps her lover’s, being snatched by a tall menacing man, vanishing in plain sight – how impossible! How improbable!

“A member of staff recalls seeing a blonde woman upstairs, wearing a rather large coat. She appeared to be quite distressed, and this particular maid would say most assuredly that she was British.”

“Distressed? Where was she? Did she see where Helen went?”

“She asked for directions to the ballroom.”

“The Titanic hearing,” Margaret said quietly.

“Oh, she damned well would, wouldn’t she?” Nikola sighed, pushing away from the desk to go to her.

“I’ll take Dr Magnus’s purchases, thank you,” Margaret offered.

Edwin complied readily, passing the bags over the desk into her waiting hands. Nikola had already stalked away and had reached the stairs, taking them two at a time. Margaret rolled her eyes at him, but followed regardless.

Cresting the top of the staircase, Nikola headed straight towards the ballroom, with the single-minded intent of finding his companion. The low murmur of voices reached him as he approached the half-open door, and he peered inside, taking in the large table, the group of men gathered around it solemnly as the questioning proceeded. His gaze alighted upon Marconi, his damn rival, and he resisted the urge to seethe at the man. Instead, his eyes roved over the audience until he spotted her in the back row, sitting rigidly in her chair, clasping her hands tightly together. Slipping past the others seated around the room, he dropped into the free chair to her right. Closer, he saw her eyes were closed, lips clenched tightly together, and her face strained and pale. The hands in her lap were holding one another so firmly that her knuckles strained white against her skin, the bones of her clever hands threatening to erupt through her delicate skin.

“Helen,” he murmured, resting a soft hand upon her knee. “Are you alright?”

Her eyes snapped open, her lips suddenly splitting apart as she drew in a ragged breath. Helen stared ahead terrified, her eyes seemingly fixed on some invisible danger. Gently, Nikola unclasped her hands, lacing his fingers in hers and pulling her up out of the chair with him, leading her silently from the ballroom. He ignored the curious glances of those around them, knowing well that reporters, engineers and politicians from all over New York were watching the well-known Nikola Tesla leading a pale, shaking woman from the room. He didn’t give a damn what they thought, rubbing his thumb along Helen’s wrist.

Outside the ballroom, Margaret was waiting by the door, holding Helen’s bags, Edwin at her side.

“What happened her?” She asked as Helen took another shuddering breath, staring into space.

“I’m not sure,” Nikola murmured in concern, leading Helen to rest against the wall, pressing his fingers to the pulse point on her neck.

“Shall I fetch a doctor for her?” Edwin offered.

“I don’t think she requires medical assistance as yet. Helen?” he prompted, cupping her face. “Helen, darling, can you hear me?”

Helen’s eyes darted to look at him, still wide in horror. He stroked her cheek soothingly.

“Helen, breathe, in and out. Just breathe, slowly. You’re alright…”

Keeping her eyes on him, Helen took a slow deep breath, finding her way back to reality. A few moments passed, and she finally calmed. Glancing up at Nikola, she flushed and turned away from him.

“What happened?”

“I don’t remember,” she replied stiffly.

“Helen, you looked terrified, as though you were almost possessed! Did someone say something to you about the ship?”

“No, Nikola. Nobody knew who I was, now leave it be.”

“Helen.”

“Nikola.”

He grabbed her arm, tugging her back to face him. “Try not to be so wretchedly impossible, will you? No one knew where you were, they found your things abandoned downstairs. I thought the worst.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, really? What did you think could possibly have happened to me in a luxurious New York hotel, Nikola?”

Baited by her derisive tone in the face of his concern, Nikola held back a growl. “Damn it, I thought it was John!”

Surprised, Helen looked away from him. “I hope I shouldn’t be so unfortunate in life to not only be aboard a sinking ship, but also find myself reacquainted with John in the one week. But, flippancy aside, I understand your alarm, and I’m sorry to have worried you so.”

“What on earth made you think that attending the hearing was a clever idea?”

“I don’t know, it wasn’t entirely on my own volition,” she admitted sheepishly. “I was rather dazed, I suppose. Somewhat compelled towards it by some morbid curiosity from the recesses of my mind, I imagine.”

“What was said in there that upset you so?”

“It was nothing in particular, Nikola. I was merely distracted. Perhaps we should let it rest for now? Please?”

Nikola gave a reluctant nod of assent.

Suddenly taking note of their audience, Helen gave a start of surprise at the familiar face. “Ms Brown? What are you doing here?”

“I was heading along to the hearing, and figured I’d see how you were doing,” Margaret smiled.

“Thank you, I’m sorry that our meeting is under such unpleasant circumstances once more. I hope you forgive my state.”

Margaret waved her hand in the air. “There ain’t a thing to apologise for.”

With a strained smile, Helen glanced at Nikola. “I take it we’ve missed the boat on lunch?”

“We’d be more than happy to accommodate you, Dr Magnus,” Edwin offered politely.

“That’s very gracious of you,” she smiled.

Behind them came a rustle of movement as the senate enquiry took leave for lunch, their solemn demeanours melting into jovial babble as they prepared to leave the ballroom and its tales of horror behind them.

“Shall we perhaps head down to lunch ourselves?” Nikola asked, gesturing towards the staircase. “We may set secure our reservation once more before the wolves descend?”

His companions nodded, and together, they set off down the hallway, away from the ballroom and its fearful atmosphere.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a big fan of Margaret Brown, her nickname "The Unsinkable Molly Brown" is what inspired the title of this fic. I hope you guys liked her! :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive apologies for the delay, but my final months of law school and a 142 page thesis on domestic abuse were quite the distraction. I wrote this chapter in fits and bursts and often found it hard to carry on with what I'd started. I questioned myself a lot on whether I should have made Helen and Nikola react like this, but here we are, you can be the judges of that.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it, it is unbeta'd, un-proofread, and it is currently nearing half four in the morning. But I promised myself I'd finish this frelling chapter tonight, which resulted in me writing over 1800 words tonight, oh my.
> 
> So here we go, chapter nine! :)

“Surely you must be hungry, Helen.”

“I’m quite alright, thank you.”

“Helen, I insist. You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“Nikola, I’m not a child, so do not deign to treat me like one. I told you that I am perfectly alright, so accept it, and move on, please.”

“Must you be so stubborn?”

“Must you insist on bothering me so? Damn it, Nikola, just let it lie!”

Margaret watched them surreptitiously over her teacup. Nikola was fuming silently, rendered speechless at Helen’s snapping. Tension fizzled blatantly between the two – but not exactly the type of tension she had been expecting.

She cleared her throat, making an attempt at piercing the angry silence that had fallen over the table. “So, Helen, I’m afraid we didn’t get to talk for long last week. Whereabouts in England do you hail from?”

“Hm? Oh yes, I’m from Camden, my father bought a rather large estate there before I was born, and I’ve lived there ever since.”

“Nice part of town?”

“Not quite, it’s rather more urban, but it’s home.”

Margaret nodded. “And you practice there?”

“Yes, it’s a rather large building, so there’s ample room if patients need to stay. James and I have worked very hard to adapt the house as best we can. But if needs be, I can treat patients in their homes.”

“James? He’s your colleague?”

“Yes, my work partner. We live together, running the facility.”

“Well, if Mr Tesla is an example of your choice in colleagues, then he must be a fine man,” Margaret grinned at Nikola. “Is this James fella at all like you?”

“Oh no,” Helen interjected. “Not at all. Why, they couldn’t be more vastly different. Wouldn’t you agree, Nikola?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Have I done something to upset you, Helen?”

She didn’t answer, but looked away from him, hands curling around her teacup.

“Oh, Helen I commend you on your maturity. Shall you be ignoring me all through lunch then?”

“Nikola…”

“If James is such a fine upstanding fellow, why don’t you head back to him now, and let him take care of you?”

“I don’t need to be taken care of,” Helen snapped.

“Really? Then please explain to me the state I found you in upstairs? Is this some new condition you’ve developed recently that you failed to mention in your letters?”

“I can’t explain it, Nikola. Perhaps it was merely a by-product of the exhaustion and stresses of the last week? Is that such an implausible, far-fetched theory?”

“You’re falling apart, and you’re too damn stubborn to admit it.”

“Falling apart? How dare you. I don’t particularly recall you graduating from Oxford any degree that qualifies you as a physician. Do tell the basis of your diagnosis.”

Nikola leaned forward, across the table, fixing a glare on his companion. “Perhaps, dear Helen,” he began with a bite in his voice. “It’s the night terrors. Or maybe finding you frozen in the bath tub, or in a ballroom, unmoving. Maybe it’s the fact that you damn near screamed the house down in your sleep last night!”

Margaret raised a hand to quiet him – the volume of his voice had been increasing with each sentence, and those dining at nearby tables were beginning to glance towards him. However, the damage to his intended target was done, as Helen paled, looking down at the tablecloth.

“If you could excuse me one moment,” she mumbled, her breath catching in her throat, as she got to her feet and hurried towards the restroom.

Nikola watched her go, his expression softening into one of regret immediately. He rose to follow but Margaret caught his wrist. “Give her a minute. If you flutter around her, it’ll probably upset her more.”

“I know Helen perfectly well, thank you,” he replied stiffly.

“Weren’t you paying attention to anything that girl said? While your heart’s in the right place, Nikola, she’s made it very clear that she doesn’t want to be overprotected. Give her a moment, give her some breathing space, and take some for yourself. You need to calm down before you jump back into it with her.”

Reluctantly, he sat back down again, pulling a face.

“Now, would you mind telling me what the hell that was? Did you really think cornering her, and fighting her, was a good idea? Look at the state we just found her in!”

“That damned impossible woman thinks she’s invincible, when all evidence points to the contrary. If she wasn’t so stubborn, I might be able to render some assistance to her!”

“Oh, _she’s_ stubborn? Sonny, I’ve been sitting here with you two for not ten minutes, and already I can tell you that you two are nothing more than a pair of mules, intolerably stubborn. I can’t decide if you two are a match made in heaven, or whether you’re too alike to possibly get along. Are you always like this?”

Nikola grimaced. “It depends on situational factors.”

“Well, what the hell is going on here?”

“It’s just much more…intense,” he sighed. “She almost died. I haven’t seen her in eight years. The time I have spent with her, she’s either entirely normal and her lovely self, or she’s lost in a nightmare world where I can barely reach her!”

“You’re frightened.”

“Nonsense.”

“Helen almost died, and it’s reminded you of her mortality. It’s perfectly natural that you’re scared.”

“Poppycock.”

Margaret shook her head, smiling. “Oh boy, you two are something else. Look, I went through almost as much as your girl. Maybe instead of fighting her tooth and nail, trying to force her to admit she’s in trouble, maybe you could be there for her. Help her to get outta the trouble.”

“I’m _trying_ to be there for her,” he replied, pinching his nose wearily. “She’s being difficult.”

“Because she’s scared too. God only knows what that poor woman went through out there in the water. She’s mostly fine during the day because she’s bottling up until it all explodes during the night until she can’t breathe. She’s probably trying to be okay for you, trying to be the Helen you love, the strong, capable woman that you’ve always known. I can see already that she doesn’t want to be perceived as weak. And every time you try and make her admit that she’s failing, it probably feels like you’re telling her she’s weak.”

Nikola was silent, staring pensively at the china plate before him, taking in her words. “But she’s not weak,” he finally said. “She could never be weak, it’s simply not possible.”

“I know you think that, but she needs to feel it,” she smiled. “Don’t push her, let her get angry, let her be impossible. Just let her try and feel anything so she can feel something besides all that fear that she’s got crammed inside of her right now.”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

“Any time.”

A waiter made his way over to them. “Are you ready to place your lunch order?”

“Not quite yet. One of our party has excused herself briefly. Perhaps I shall ask for you once we are ready?”

“Very well, sir.”

“You want me to go make sure Helen’s alright?” Margaret offered.

“It’s probably better that she sees your face rather than mine,” he admitted with a grimace.

She nodded. “I’ll be right back then. Might wanna order yourself a drink, this could take a while, sonny.”

As she left the grand restaurant, behind her, Nikola slumped in his chair, throwing back his head with a quiet sigh. Margaret, however, made her way straight to the bathroom door. Inside the ladies restroom, she saw Helen immediately. The blonde was leaning over a sink, bracing her arms on the marble counter. Her reflection in the mirror revealed a pale face, eyes closed.

“I hope I’m not bothering you,” Margaret began, quietly.

Helen’s eyes snapped open, and she straightened. “Not at all. I apologise for lingering so.”

“I’m not here to bring you back, sweetheart, I’m here to see how you’re doing.”

“I’m quite alright, thank you. I’m sorry about mine and Nikola’s rather horrid behaviour. We should know to conduct ourselves better in the presence of company.”

Margaret gave a dismissive wave. “Don’t worry about that. I’m not here to judge either of you.”

“May I ask why you are here then?”

“In the building? I was gonna meet a friend at the hearing. Here with you? Well, Mr Tesla asked I visit you.”

Helen’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “He did? Why?”

“He thought the visit might do you some good, both of us could probably do with talking to someone who understands, I’d bet.”

“That sounds alarmingly too compassionate of him. Are you sure that was his intention?”

Margaret gave a low whistle. “Good lord, you two are really something else.”

Helen frowned. “Whatever it is that Nikola’s told you, it’s probably an exaggeration or lie.”

“You’re quick to assume the worst of him,” her companion observed.

“I assure you, that is not the worst of him, merely who he is.”

“He came to thank me, for pulling you outta the water. Probably wouldn’t like me telling you this, but he made it pretty clear he was indebted to me.”

Helen arched an eyebrow. “Nikola never admits to owing anyone anything.”

“Perhaps he has a reason to now.”

“Ms Brown, I’m not quite sure what Nikola told you of our relationship,” Helen began carefully. “But I assure you—.”

“He made it very clear that he was thankful I had saved a dear friend, that was all.”

Helen shut her eyes. “Forgive me, I must seem wretchedly ungrateful. He has been a very kind friend who has made every effort to ensure my comfort since I have arrived.”

“Then why are you so angry with him?”

“I’m not.”

“Oh, Helen, trust that I know all about being mad at a fella. It’s as plain as the nose on your face, honey.”

“I am not angry with Nikola,” Helen insisted firmly.

“Well then who are you angry with?”

“Myself!” Helen snapped.

The inadvertent confession seemed to ring loudly in the silence, causing Helen to flinch and turn away from Margaret.

“There ain’t a reason in the world you should be mad with yourself, darling,” Margaret drawled softly. “Not a damn reason.”

Helen took a deep breath, clenching her hands into fists in an effort to ease the tremors wracking along her fingers. “I should be…better.”

“Better? Better than what?”

“This!” She cried, spinning around and waving her hand in the air. “I am bloody well stronger than this, I shouldn’t be falling apart.”

“Who says you shouldn’t be? I’d say you’re well within your right to do whatever you please right now.”

“I don’t want to fall apart. Do you really think I want the nightmares? The fear? Having to depend on Nikola so wholly?”

Margaret placed a hand on Helen’s arm. “I think Mr Tesla doesn’t mind at all. Whatever it is that you got rattling around inside of you, let it out. He’s a big boy, he can handle it.”

“But he shouldn’t have to! I’m supposed to be stronger than this.”

“Hurting doesn’t make you weak, Helen. Being afraid doesn’t make you less strong. It’s surviving that makes us strong. You let yourself fall apart all you want, and know that when you’re ready to, you can pick yourself up and carry on. That’s strength.”

Helen sniffed, looking up at Margaret, nodding. “It’s hard to remember that when you’re in the midst of falling apart. But this is infuriating. I’ve been through much worse, I should be stronger than this.”

“It’s hard to imagine worse,” Margaret commented softly. “How did you get through that time?”

Biting her lip, Helen recalled Nikola’s postponed plans, the nights he stayed with her when she was terrified of John’s reappearance in the late hours in London, when James had left himself too incapacitated by his own vices to even recognise her. He had been there to keep her grounded, to remind her that there was light to be found even in the darkness cast by the Ripper. He had worked tirelessly to create a machine to prevent John’s powers from allowing him entry into their homes, and to create a means to protect the child she could not yet bear to bring into such a dark world. He had pushed his own life, his own ambitions aside to be there for her, and it had led to their friendship strengthening beyond realms either of them could have imagined. Ever since, their relationship was more than hand holding and the occasional kiss, but now bedding one another had become a natural extension to their bond. It was something Helen treasured, that Nikola and she knew each other in every manner possible, something secret and lovely between them. Out of the abyss of John’s betrayal to The Five, Nikola had been there to get her through it, and she had moved forward, knowing that happiness could be found once more.

With a sigh, she drew herself from her internal ruminations, meeting Margaret’s eye once more. “Nikola was there.”

“And he’s still here.”

“Yes, but I don’t mean to burden him so.”

“Honey, you’re not a burden on him.”

Helen scoffed softly. “He begs otherwise. He made it very clear that I need to be taken care of, he’d probably rather I packed my bags and went home and out of his hair.”

“I doubt that.”

“No? You see, Nikola was anticipating a visit from an old friend. One, I imagine with copious amounts of fine wines, dinner outings, and the like. Instead, he’s saddled with a woman, who, by his own words, is falling apart. A woman who is keeping him awake at all hours of the night with her nightmares and who has completely distracted him from his work since he got wind of the Titanic’s demise. The man detests people, and completely removes himself from others in any way he can. Do you think he enjoys having to take care of me?”

Margaret gave her a sympathetic smile. “I get the feeling he’d do anything for you.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “I see Nikola has made quite the impression on you. You must be the first person who hasn’t want to strangle him within the first hour of making his acquaintance.”

Her companion chuckled. “You wanna strangle him, huh?”

“Only most of the bloody time, he’s a difficult man.”

“What about the rest of the time?”

Helen paused, pursing her lips ruefully. “On occasion, perhaps he is rather more tolerable.”

“You two, there’s a lot of care there.”

“There always has been,” Helen smiled softly.

“It seems to me that communication is the issue here. Maybe it’d be good to sit down and talk, figure out where you’re both coming from here.”

With a short laugh, Helen shook her head. “Direct confrontation tends to lead to conflict between us. Probably the better for him that I lost my firearm during my travels.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you are a real pistol, aren’t you? I’d say the outrageous Mr Tesla is well matched in you.”

“He’d like to think so.”

“You know, he admires you greatly, especially that fire in you.”

“Yes, well, he seems to be under the impression that said fire has diminished somewhat, that I’ve weakened. But I am not weak.”

“I highly doubt that you are. Nor do I think he sees you as weak. But if he’s making you feel weak, tell him.”

Helen regarded her companion carefully. “How are you doing this? How are you getting through what happened? You’re so composed, I almost envy you.”

Margaret gave her a small, bittersweet smile. “I’m afraid not, darling. I haven’t slept since it happened, if you can believe that. I’m scared to close my eyes because all I’ll see is that ship going down, all I’ll hear in my dreams will be the screams of the people we left behind. I can’t bear to think on it for too long, or I’ll never think of anything else ever again. My doctor is threatening to hold me down and sedate me, but I’m just not ready to fall asleep yet.”

Helen nodded knowingly. “Every time I sleep, I’m back in the water. It’s unbearable.”

“All my friends and family coo at me like I’m a child. ‘Why ain’t you sleeping, Maggie?’ they all ask. They’ll never understand it, they’ll never know how afraid I am. How heavily I feel the loss of all those people, every single soul we abandoned. If I fall asleep, their ghosts will surely seek me out.”

“You saved me.”

“I could have saved more, but by the time I convinced them to bring the boats back, it was too late.”

“Out of all of us in the water, why did you save me? Was it because you recognised me from our meeting on the boat?”

“You really think that I chose you above all others just ‘cause I recognised you? We pulled you out because you were the only one that still had life in them, Helen. We searched all over for survivors, but not a soul could be saved. Then we saw you splashing about and headed right over to you.”

“Splashing? I’m quite sure I was unconscious at the time,” Helen frowned.

“Well, looked to us like you were kicking up quite a bit of water. When we got closer, we could see the breath coming out of your nose like little puffs of smoke. So we reached over with our oar to try and wake you up. When you did, we grabbed a hold of your hands and brought you on board.”

Helen nodded. “I remember that part.”

“After we’d gotten you bundled up under a blanket one of the ladies had brought with them, you nodded off once more. We spent a little bit longer looking for survivors but found none. The whole journey from there until we were picked up by the Carpathia, I just sat and watched you breathing. I spent the whole time just willing you to survive, so that our efforts hadn’t been for nothing, so that we had saved someone out there. I was so terrified you’d die of the cold before we’d be saved.”

Reaching out, Helen caught Margaret’s hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, words cannot express how much your selfless actions mean to me. Without you, I wouldn’t be here. I will never ever forget what you have done for me.”

“I only wish I could have done more for those poor souls lost at sea.”

Margaret’s words hung heavily in the air between them, until the loud chiming of a clock startled them both from the ghosts swirling in their minds.

“Good heavens, it’s already 2pm,” Margaret remarked. “I hadn’t intended to linger so.”

“My apologies, I’m afraid I got you rather caught up in my affairs. I’m sorry if I detained you in any way.”

“Helen, I can’t imagine a better cause to spend my time than speaking with you. All those folk out there, caught up in the sensationalism of it all, they haven’t got a damn clue what it was like. And anyway, the friend I’m meeting will probably expect my lateness, I’ve been nothing short of hounded by the press as of late, all salivating for my story. Bunch of damn vultures. If anything, I’m using it as an opportunity to highlight the godforsaken cowardice of certain persons that night.”

The Brit smiled faintly. “Let’s hope the bastards are held accountable for their selfish actions.”

“Hear hear. I’ll have to dash away now, but I fully intend to see you again before you return home. If that’s alright with you, of course.”

“That would be lovely. And once I’m returned to England, I will ensure that you have means of contacting me so that we may carry on our correspondence.”

“Of course, darling. I’m staying at a friend’s house at the moment, but I’ll make sure you know where to send your letters once I’m back at my own house.”

“Perfect.”

“Now, shall we return to the restaurant? Mr Tesla seems to be the impatient sort.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Helen smiled, moving towards the door.

Together, they walked out of the restrooms, to find Nikola pacing anxiously outside, eyes on the clock fixed upon the wall.

“I think I’m getting the idea,” Margaret chuckled.

The vampire spun around, eyes alighting on the pair. He scanned his eyes along Helen, appraising her carefully.

“Well, Mr Tesla, it appears I have to take my leave. If I leave you two now, do you promise not to end up murdering each other?”

“I’m insulted you’d even insinuate that,” Nikola scoffed as Helen replied, “I’m unarmed so I believe he’ll be fine.”

“Well, my you two are something else. I fully intend to have dinner with you both some evening, I imagine it’d be a fascinating event. But I’m afraid I can’t stay any longer. Mr Tesla, it was a pleasure to meet you. You’re a good sort.”

Nikola shook her outstretched hand. “It was wonderful to meet you, Margaret. I already look forward to meeting you again.”

“A charmer,” Margaret sighed, before turning to Helen and enveloping her in a sudden hug. “You need to talk, day or night, darlin’, don’t you hesitate for a minute. Whatever you need.”

Helen returned the embrace. “The offer stands for you too,” she replied warmly.

Pulling away from Helen, Margaret smiled at them both. “Well, I’m not one for drawn out goodbyes, so I’ll see you both soon, I hope.” And with that, she turned and strode back towards the lobby, out of their lives after such a brief time.

In the silence left in her wake, Nikola fidgeted, watching Helen out of the corner of his eye, trying to find a means to bridge the chasm between them. “Helen—” he began.

“I’m not hungry,” she suddenly declared, interrupting him.

“Okay,” he answered hesitantly.

“Perhaps we could retire upstairs? I’m afraid I have tired somewhat already today.”

He nodded. “Of course, whatever you wish.”

She gave a small smile. “Thank you.”

“Shall we?” He led her from the dining room, through the bustling lobby once more. Passing the concierge desk, he informed Edwin that their lunch reservation could be given to another, and asked that a pot of tea instead be sent up to their suite. Tea secured, together they made their way to the elevators, and ascended to the third floor in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I adored writing Margaret, she's the mediator these two need because they are clearly incapable of expressing how they feel properly. I hope that was okay, I'm too tired to read over it right now to be honest. Nikola and Helen need to have a talk, but alas I shall leave that for the next chapter! Thanks for reading! <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I can't believe it's been so long since I updated. I beg your forgiveness, and if any of you have still stuck around, THANK YOU. I appreciate your kind words so much. <333
> 
> Time sort of flew away from me, I had an internship during the summer and I had to move away briefly. Then I was flung into a full-time Masters and two part-time jobs. Hence, my silence. Luckily, however, I'm on my Christmas break from everything, so it was time to return to my two darlings. Again, I'm so sorry for my absence. I have so many ideas for these two, but realistically, I'm barely making it through this one...
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and any mistakes (which there presumably are) are wholly mine as this is (as always) unbeta'd.
> 
> Enjoy, lovely Teslen fans!
> 
> \--------------------------------------

__

Shutting the door softly behind them both, Nikola turned to face Helen apprehensively.

“I’m sure you have some choice words for me,” he began, fiddling with the edge of his shirt sleeve.

Helen, her back to him, let out a quiet sigh.  “I don’t want to get into an argument now, Nikola.”

“I don’t intend to fight you. Whatever it is that you feel must be said, say it. I will do as best I can to hold my tongue.”

“Please, Nikola, let’s not do this.”

“I don’t want you to feel as though you must keep everything inside. Please don’t be afraid to express yourself, however you feel necessary.”

She let out a sharp breath, the air expelling harshly into the silent room. Turning to face him, she jerked her hand towards the balcony doors. “May I go out there?”

“Of course,” he replied, unsure of where the conversation was going.

Helen nodded and made a beeline for the glass doors. As she opened them, a gust of chilled New York air invaded the suite. Nikola moved to follow her, but she held up her hand to stop him. “I’d rather like a few moments alone outside. Please. I’ll come back in when I’m ready.”

He faltered. “As you wish.”

With another nod, Helen stepped outside, shutting the doors softly behind her. Though only on the third floor of suites in the hotel, she was raised far above the street, the other buildings diminutive in comparison, slowly blossoming and blooming in the ever-growing New York skyline to meet the stature of their neighbour. The cool wind whipped through her hair, and she drew Nikola’s coat around her more tightly, shutting her eyes. As always, when things began to border on being too much, when the world was proving harder to cope with, she sought solace at a height, standing above the world, letting her unease be soothed by the air rushing about her.

Inside, she felt a maelstrom of emotions churning within. The deep, unending sorrow which had torn through her soul since the demise of the great ship was still by far the greatest preoccupation. It pushed relentlessly at her, like the icy current of the Atlantic battering her from the inside out. This great sadness had filled her steadily, until her breath, her hope, all the good parts of her were crushed. Would she ever be truly free of their screams? Of the overwhelming grief which threatened to torment her until the end of her days? God, John Druitt had been a bloody walk in the park compared to lying in icy waters surrounded by a thousand doomed souls, their screams freezing in their throats without a hope of being heard or saved.

Hot tears slipped down her cheeks, and she pressed her knuckles against her lips to stifle her sobs. Her pain felt so far away from the bustling street below. What could anyone down there possibly understand of this great ache?

Meeting Margaret had eased to her suffering – someone understood, someone had felt this fear, the unbearable pain of what had been left behind. The meeting had made her feel a little less alone in the world, a little less like she was still out at sea, bobbing in the waves, lost. And Margaret had reminded her to grasp onto her most important lifeline right now – Nikola.

Nikola. It seemed he believed that her frustrations meant that she was angry at him, that all her bottled up emotions were directed at him. How wrong he was. Honestly, if any contained emotion related to him at all, it was her shame. She was embarrassed and afraid to let him see into what she was experiencing. She prided herself on being strong, on being an independent woman when so many others had told her to be otherwise. He had advocated for her independence all their lives, he had supported her liberation from the patriarchy, had admired her strength, had often praised it as the key characteristic that had drawn him towards her so wilfully in the first place. And how she loved him for it, she basked in the knowledge that she was respected not scorned for her self-determination. God, how wonderful it had felt when they were students, to listen to his indignant rants at her being considered a second-class citizen. He _understood_ her, and he wanted her as she was, not cowed and dependent as many other men had rather wished she be. And so she was afraid now, to stand before him, and bare her weakness. How could she show him her fear? She so badly wanted to be strong, to maintain what she had spent so long building up, to be the Helen he admired. Because this wasn’t bloody well her! She felt like a ghost, a shadow, an empty shell. The determined doctor, the headstrong feminist, oh god, that woman felt so far away, as though her strengths had washed away in the water, leaving her naked and unknown to herself. She was disappearing, little by little, until she was sure that only her fear and pain would remain.

She was bloody terrified. It scared her that her journey had gone so catastrophically wrong, a consideration which she had not given thought to. She had always eagerly sought adventure, never pausing to ponder possible complications that may arise. And now, she doubted she would ever seek an adventure so freely again. And it sent chills through her to see the true face of humanity, to imagine how one person could so easily abandon another. She had known so many of those first class passengers, had dined with them aboard the ship, and before the event itself. How could she ever look those people in the eye again? How could she sit at a gala, attend a dinner, with any of those people without searching their face for tell-tale signs of the greatest of all evils – apathy? Would it linger in their eyes, a darkness that couldn’t be described quite right, but shadowed their gaze in the most unnerving fashion? Would it be in the curl of their lips as the topic of poverty arose, of pickpockets and vagrants, of the lesser class who were to be held accountable for petty crimes and the declining safety on the streets of London? Would she hear it in their voices, or would its shadow curl itself around them, festering the air surrounding them? She was afraid of them, she feared their power, their greed, and the devastation it could cause. Those with money and power had little to fear, but what would occur should she become impoverished? Would she be so easily cast aside and forgotten? Nikola had barely scraped his way through life in England, his lack of finances and the insecurity which naturally followed had been cause for a slight, nagging concern in her. Of course, when the prospect of going hungry had threatened him, she would simply invite him for lunch. When he could not afford the fare home to Smiljan in their term holidays, he was always welcome in the Magnus household. But if she hadn’t been there, if it happened now, she dreaded to think of the ugly, cold indifference he would be faced with. How could they carry on operating within this class of vultures, who benefited from the misfortune of others?

The thought of frozen bodies floating in the water, crying out for the boats that had long abandoned them rose to the fore of her mind again, and she gave a great shaking sob. How could one ever possibly hope to march on in the face of such overwhelming loss? And this great, catastrophic, _unbearable_ event had already been reduced to a series of headlines, of emotionless questioning by a tribunal of those that could never possibly know such pain.

She blew out a heavy breath, trying to steel herself. Her breath fogged in the air before her, as the cold wind stung relentlessly at her tearstained face. Sniffing, she reached into the pockets of her borrowed coat, in search of something to dry her tears. Her fingers brushed against a wad of folded paper, and curiosity overcoming her, she pulled it out to see what it was. Expecting to find scribbles revealing the contents of Nikola’s mind, ideas for a new invention, she was taken aback to recognise her own handwriting as she unfolded the page. Scanning her eyes along her own familiar, looped handwriting, she realised with a pang of unease that it was the very letter she had sent before setting off on her travels. With bitterness seething through her, she read her own excited words about the great ship, urging Nikola to dispel his apprehension, that her voyage on the great ship would deliver him safely into his arms, that she would marvel at its abilities. Scoffing softly, she wiped a tear from her cheek with the heel of her hand. Expelling a heavy breath into the cold air of New York City, she rallied her strength and returned her focus to the letter. Brushing her thumb along the page, she noted a dried water stain, the ink having pooled and discoloured in a ring, leaving a word partially blurred. Biting her lip, she examined the mark, and tried not to imagine Nikola holding the paper, finding cause to cry over it. Now that she looked closer, the paper had evidently been unfolded and refolded numerous times, the worn creases giving its secrets away. Sighing, she closed the paper gently returning it to its home, before turning and opening the doors, stepping back into the suite.

Nikola, waiting, no doubt impatiently, by the fireplace, spun around and gazed at her in question.

An ache lanced through her chest as she took him in, and thought of the worn letter he had carried with him, of the splash marring her hopeful words. She was bloody well tired of fighting.

Stepping towards him, she wordlessly moved into his arms, grasping him close to her, as he wound her up in an embrace. Once more, her tears fell thick and fast, and she sobbed into his shoulder. He neither said nor asked anything, but ran his hands soothingly along her hair, in soft circles against her back. Amidst her sobs, she errantly wondered whether her tears would ever dry up, she could feel them thick and heavy within her, endless in their numbers. She could drown on her tears alone, they filled every inch of her, pushing out anything but dread and grief until everything good within her felt as though it had been extinguished, washed away. She could barely breathe from the weight of them.

Nikola began to rock her gently, cradling her close to him. She pressed her face against his neck, trying to catch her breath, willing the flow of tears to stop. Breathing came easier, but the pain of her grief and frustration still ached dully beneath her skin. His hand came to rest against the back of her neck, smoothing her hair against her skin in slow, tender strokes.  Sniffing, she rested her cheek against his shoulder, trying to regain calm.

“How are you?” He murmured, hugging her tighter.

“Further from hysterics now, I believe,” she whispered in reply, her voice thick.

“Hysterical would never be a word said in relation to you, I imagine.”

She shook her head. “Nikola, I think I’m losing my mind,” she admitted in a whisper.

He pulled back slightly to look at her in concern. “What do you mean by that?”

“I lied to you. Earlier, outside the ballroom, when you asked what had provoked me. I told you that I didn’t remember, but that was a lie. I remember exactly what happened.”

“What was it?”

She bit her lip. “It frightens me, and I very well think I could be losing my grip on reality. When I tell you, Nikola, I think I shall appear rather mad.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve begun to suffer from very realistic hallucinations – they appear real to all my senses, I truly believe that what I see is really there, even though such a thing isn’t possible.”

“Hallucinations? Of what?”

“Water. I can hear it, see it, smell it and taste it, Nikola. All day, it was almost like it was trickling in the background, but I could handle it. And then, as I approached the ballroom, it was worse. The more I panicked, the more water appeared. I thought I was going to drown then and there. Isn’t that the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard?” She asked, voice shaking.

He paused, searching for the right words. “Helen, after everything you’ve been through, it’s hardly surprising that you’re suffering in some way. Perhaps it’s exhaustion.”

“I’ve slept since, Nikola,” she replied in a tone that suggested he was being dim on purpose, that he was dismissing her.

“Yes,” he replied carefully. “But how often do you wake after a nightmare? You’re restless through the night, Helen. Last night, you were screaming in your sleep. Perhaps you’re not getting the rest that you need. It could be that your mind has yet to rest.”

“It’s happened before, but never as bad as this.”

“You’ve had hallucinations before? When?”

She glanced down at the carpet, fixing her eyes on its pattern. “Everything that happened with John, often I would imagine seeing him in the shadows, or standing behind me in my reflection. I was never sure if it was my mind, or maybe he was indeed flashing in and out of my life in an effort to drive me to madness.”

“And now you doubt the reality of these sightings?”

“Well, I doubted them then! For goodness sake, Nikola, the shielding would be fully functional at the time. There was no way for him to do so. And yet, he haunted me.”

Nikola sighed, brushing his fingers against hers. “He’s a ghost, Helen. They all are.”

“I don’t believe for a minute that he’s dead. I wonder if it’s even possible.”

“What I meant was, he is _your_ ghost. And now, he has been joined by all those who perished on the Titanic.”

Helen frowned at him. “What on earth do you mean?”

Gently, he led her to the sofa, sitting down beside her. She glanced at him expectantly, unsure of where Nikola was steering the conversation.

“After Dane died,” he began, quietly. Helen tensed; Nikola so rarely spoke of his brother, of his life or much too premature death. “After that day, I had nightmares for months. I saw his death over and over again. I imagined it in all different ways – how I might have stopped it, or how I had caused it. It plagued me. And sometimes, I thought I could hear the sound of the horse’s hooves. Once or twice, I believed I had seen him. It took years before I realised what it all meant. Dane was my ghost.”

Helen stared at him curiously. “You believe in ghosts?”

“I am a scientist. I believe that energy cannot simply be destroyed. I believe that after death, remnants linger. And that is what the human race has always referred to as ghosts – the sense of those who have left us, and they are particularly prevalent when the loss affected us most.”

“But how does your theory factor in John? He wasn’t dead when I began to imagine him, and I doubt that he is dead now.”

“Well, when we studied the effects of the source blood on John, and how to contain him, we realised that his abilities could be broken down to physics – he was simply energy passing from one point to another. Everything about John’s power came down to energy. Perhaps that is why he haunts you still. Other than the fact that he’s always been positively ghoulish anyway.”

“Interesting theory,” she replied quietly. “Any thoughts on how one banishes their ghosts?”

He smiled sadly. “Time appears to do the trick.”

“Dane no longer haunts you?”

“No. I won’t forget him, but I no longer imagine his death, awake or asleep.”

She nodded. “There’s hope for me yet. However, in the meantime, I shall continue to be plagued.”

He reached out to catch her hand in his. “You’re expecting too much of yourself too soon. You’re not invincible, Helen. Give yourself a chance.”

Swallowing, Helen gave a tearful laugh. “My goodness, Nikola. When did you go and get so wise?”

“Genius, remember?”

“Ah, yes. Of course.”

With a smile, he pulled her into a hug. She settled comfortably against him, as he ran his hand up and down her back. However, her peace was to be short-lived as a knock on the door caused her to jolt upright as though he had shocked her.

“Sorry, must be that tea I ordered. Look, I’ll go get the door. Why don’t you head into bed, I’ll bring your tea to you.”

“I’m fine,” she replied, waving her hand dismissively.

“Go. Charming scientist’s orders.”

She chuckled, rising from her seat, and heading towards the bedroom, all the while fixing him with a faux-stern look. Once inside, she pulled off the heavy coat, draping it across the bottom of the large bed. Sitting on its edge, she unclasped and tugged her boots off, setting them neatly on the floor. She drew back the heavy blankets, slipping into the bed, feeling exhaustion settle over her.

Out in the living room, she could hear the clink of teaspoons against china as Nikola prepared the tea, and gave a small tired smile. She was grateful for him, oh so grateful for his support. Once again, he was her touchstone in a time of crisis.

He appeared in the doorway, effortlessly bearing the large silver tea tray. Swooping towards the bed, he carefully set it down beside her, before sitting onto the bed himself.

“A promising Darjeeling, my dear. I ensured the hotel pantry would be sufficiently stocked for your arrival. An English woman and her tea are not to be trifled with, a lesson I learned some time ago,” he smirked.

Shaking her head in bemusement, Helen carefully raised the ornate tea cup to her lips and inhaled – the scent was so familiar that if she were to close her eyes, she might find herself sitting in her study in London, listening to the patter of rain against the large sash window. Sipping the steaming drink, she hummed in appreciation. “Perfect. I’ve taught you well in the fine art of tea-making, Nikola.”

“One of my many talents,” he replied with a feline grin.

“Of course, talents learned at my knee nonetheless.”

“And very lovely knees they are,” he shot back smoothly.

She chuckled. “Outrageous man. I daresay, however, that there are certain abilities and qualities of yours that I could not possibly lay claim to, nor would I like to in particular instances.”

“Ah, all my faults, follies, and most fantastic features are wholly yours,” he replied with a flair of drama, raising his teacup in salute before taking a sip. “Quite a decent brew, don’t you think? I wonder if the dear Helen Magnus would one day find herself relocating to the tea gardens of India?”

“I don’t think my future holds such a drastic move, Nikola. What would I do with my time? Drink tea and abandon my work with Abnormals? How highly unlikely indeed. Shall you be retiring to a vineyard then?”

He grinned. “Oh my, now there’s a thought. You may be on to something. However, it wouldn’t do to abscond from my endeavours to revolutionise the world. You see, all the others who deem themselves inventors and innovators are just too damned slow. Were I to abandon my post, scientific progress may slow to the pace of a snail, dearest Helen.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “What on earth would we do without you, o brilliant Nikola Tesla?” She asked in a deadpan voice. “How we ever managed to make it to the 20th century is truly a marvel.”

“Mock if you will, but admit it, you can’t imagine a world without me.”

She gave him a small genuine smile. “No, I can’t. I can’t picture it for one moment. Nor would I want to.”

He inclined his head, but not quite quickly enough for her to miss his throat bobbing as he swallowed, and covered her hand with his. She turned hers upwards to squeeze his gently. Biting her lip, Helen leaned forward to reach into the pocket of Nikola’s coat, laying across the bed, and extracted the folder letter from its depths.

Immediately beside her, Nikola stiffened. She could feel it as his entire body seized up as he sat alongside her. Settling at his side once more, she kept her eyes fixed upon the letter. “You have been so gracious, so kind to me since the moment I arrived.”

“What else should you expect from your oldest friend in such a situation?” He asked, feigning flippancy once he had found his voice.

“Of course,” she conceded. “However, you have been here for me, rallied me and supported me in every way you can despite my wish to ignore this need. Which I now realise would have been to my detriment. I think that, had I pushed and pushed you away, had I attempted to shut you out entirely, you would still have stood by my side regardless. You always have done so, my darling man. From the moment I met you, you have stood in my corner, no matter what. And you’re still here for me, so thank you. I don’t want to push you away, and I certainly don’t want to isolate myself in my own fear and pain anymore. I need you, and I wasn’t ready to admit that – I wanted to be the woman you knew, someone who could soldier on through anything. But I can’t, not alone. And while I was arriving at this conclusion, Nikola, I found this letter in your pocket.”

He swallowed. “I hadn’t realised it was—”

“You are free to remind me of your omniscience, and declare that you did indeed tell me not to board that ship, and that I made a great error in doing so.”

“I would never gloat about that, Helen.”

“No, of course. But don’t you just feel a bittering revulsion when reading my words? God, Nikola, I actually teased about how I would praise it? Isn’t that such a strange thing to imagine now?”

“You couldn’t have known, nor could I. Nobody could have foreseen such a thing.”

She gave him a sad smile. “I know.”

Raising their clasped hands to his lips, he pressed a soft kiss to the back of her hand. “Whatever you need of me, simply ask.”

Her smile became warmer. “Thank you. And in particular, thank you for going to Margaret. It was lovely to speak to her, it was definitely what I needed.”

“I’m glad to hear that, my dear.”

She shifted closer to him, and he opened his arms to her, letting her rest against him, her back pressed against his chest.

“Anything else you need?” He asked, wrapping his arms around her.

“This is enough for now,” she replied quietly, threading her fingers through his as they rested upon her belly.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY, GUESS WHO IS STILL ALIVE???
> 
> (I am so so so so so sorry that it has been so long. Honestly, up until September, I had been doing nothing but reading/writing academic nonsense non-stop, so the last thing that felt like fun was MORE writing. Once I've had the time to breathe and get back into this again, I've been pushing at this constantly, trying to get past all these blocks. I've pushed through tonight to get it finished because you all deserve so much better than my crappy updating schedule, because you're all the loveliest people who still leave me reviews and comments, and still tell me you love this, even when it seemed that I had abandoned it. I absolutely haven't, but I will never be able to guarantee regular updating, which kills me because I really love this story so much, and it's been a pleasure to put it out here and hear what you lovely people think. If you're still here reading, thank you, thank you, thank you. I'm so sorry the wait has been so long, and I can't tell you how much it means that you're still sticking around. This is chapter 11, and by the plot I've sketched out, this will end up being 19 chapters long (+ a possible epilogue), so hey, I guess this will be finished in like, 2025 or something (I JOKE, I JOKE). But my one goal was to make sure this was updated before the end of 2017, and I promise I will jump straight into Ch 12, because I love this story too much to let it die a slow death (and the Teslen fandom is too lovely to neglect). 
> 
> Thank you to everyone for their fantastic comments, I will be tackling the scary amount of comments awaiting me (anxiety and guilt has kept me from responding to the majority of them until I had something to actually post), and a shoutout to all the lovelies on tumblr who keep saying the nicest things to me about this fic (you're doing wonders for my confidence XD)
> 
> So, here it is, 3,400ish words, unbeta'd, delivered at almost 5am. To make up for my absence, have some bathtub Teslen. Enjoy, and let me know if I missed any mistakes, so I can fix them like the control freak/perfectionist that I am.
> 
> <3  
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Helen stared into the fireplace, rolling the stem of her wine glass between her fingers. Though the bathroom door was closed, she could still hear the thundering flow of running water hitting the porcelain bathtub. She could imagine it filling the space, flowing over the rim, splashing out onto the floor in waves, until it found its way under the door and made its way towards her…

She inhaled sharply, straightening her shoulders. _Snap out of it_ , she thought sharply, taking a drink of wine, the heavy red coating her throat, steeling her nerves. The bathwater wasn’t going to sweep her away any time soon, she was being ridiculous. She rested the base of the wine glass against her thigh, absentmindedly tapping her fingers along the bowl. She was alright, of course she was. And there was no chance of the bathtub flooding and filling the ornate suite – she was sure the hotel’s plumbing was simply impeccable; had it been any less, Nikola would not be here.

As she heard the flow of water cease, she took another long gulp of wine. That not doing the trick, she threw her head back and drained the glass. She got to her feet, and set the empty glass atop the fireplace, brushing her hands along the front of the borrowed silk robe she was wearing.

Another deep breath…

The door opened, and Nikola stepped out, giving her an apprehensive look. “Are you ready?”

She nodded, lips pressed tightly together so as to not let a word of protest escape. Silently, she walked towards him, and headed through the bathroom door.

To his credit, he had done a lovely job of making the room look welcoming. Candles flickered softly around them, making the grand bathroom appear smaller.

“Shall I fetch you another drink?” He offered from the doorway.

“No, thank you.” Her hands worried at the softly tied knot around her waist.

He pressed his hand gently against her spine. “Breathe.”

She gave a shaky laugh, realising she had been inadvertently holding her breath. Her shoulders loosened, and she turned to face him. “Join me?”

Raising an eyebrow, he nodded. “If it pleases the lady, of course.”

Sitting against the edge of the bathtub, she threw an appraising look to its contents.

“Shall I get in first?” Nikola asked, eyeing her shrewdly as he unbuttoned his waistcoat.

She gave him a smile. “You read my mind.”

He leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Would you expect any less of me?” He winked at her as he tugged his waistcoat off and set it carefully aside.

From her perch on the bathtub’s edge, she watched as he shed his clothes, shaking her head at every lascivious grin he sent her way. Once finished, he brushed past her, lowering himself into the tub. Settled in its depths, he cocked his head up at her. “Are you going to join me, or continue to merely admire me?”

Helen scoffed, untying the robe. “Patience is a virtue, dearest.”

“Who ever said that I had any virtues?” He asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Her robe was left sitting upon his neatly folded clothes, and she eased herself into the tub. The water rose in warning, promising to overflow should the occupants of the bathtub disturb it too greatly.

Settling back against him, she smiled as his arms immediately curled around her, holding her close to him.

“It’s been a while since we did this,” he murmured happily, nuzzling her hair.

“Too long,” she agreed, her eyes falling shut in contentment.

He brushed a soft kiss to her temple, happy to let her lie in silence.

Surrounded by the warm water, while pressed against Nikola’s chest, Helen found herself feeling at ease once more, and let out a deep breath. Opening her eyes, she cast a glance around the room at the gently flickering candles and felt the knot of unease begin to lessen in her chest.

“Feeling better?”

She moved to face him slightly, giving him a warm smile. “Yes. Thank you for this.”

He leaned forward and dropped a kiss on her shoulder, dragging the tip of his nose along the upward curve of her neck. She huffed a soft laugh, pushing back against him. The water of the bath lapped around them, threatening to escape its confines and pour out onto the pristine tiles below.

“Careful,” she warned, her words belayed by the wide smile on her face.

“Miss Magnus,” he murmured in an almost-growl. “I do believe you are the culprit here. If you keep wiggling about, the occupants of the suite below us are going to be showered with bathwater.”

She threw her head back and laughed, giving him a nudge of her elbow. “I’m sure they are quite accustomed to their unruly neighbour by now. Why, you must keep them awake at all hours with your pacing, and muttering, and your terrible habit of rebuking inanimate objects. Should they be displeased with us, Nikola, I hardly imagine the fault would be entirely mine.”

“I’ll have you know that I am a wonderful neighbour, Helen,” he replied playfully, poking her in the ribs. “My pacing is nothing in comparison to your rather dangerous menagerie. Have any of your neighbours been bitten recently?”

She squirmed away from his touch, batting at his hand. “Oi, stop that,” she chuckled. “And you know very well that Mr Wilson antagonised that poor creature. He got what he bloody well deserved for trespassing.”

“You are a public menace, my dear,” he whispered happily, pressing a kiss to her hair.

“Dear me, does that make you proud?”

He grinned, poking at her once more. “Exceptionally so.”

“Stop _that_ ,” she gasped, pulling from his grasp. The movement proved too much for the tub as water began to slosh over its rim, splashing onto the floor. “Oh, Christ.”

He tutted. “Now, you’ve done it. Honestly, Helen, I can’t take you anywhere.”

She pulled a face, settling back against him carefully. “Oh, hush up. It was entirely your fault.”

“How so?” He asked slowly. “Was it because I tickled you?” He asked, punctuating the question with a sudden attack on her sides.

She jolted upwards, trying to escape his grip. “Bloody – will you stop – Nikola!” She doubled over, gasping in laughter. “Nikola!” She grabbed at his hands, attempting to still them, all the while sending sheets of bathwater flowing over the edges of the tub.

“Oh dear me, Miss Magnus, do try to control yourself,” he replied, laughing as he batted her hands away.

“That’s _Doctor_ Magnus, you bloody nuisance,” she growled, shoving back against him.

“Yes, I’m sure titles will make all the difference when you’re explaining yourself to the staff as to why the occupants of the second floor are suddenly experiencing a deluge from their ceilings.”

She scoffed, nudging at him to dislodge the hand that was slowly making its way along her thigh. “Stop it, or I’ll bloody well drown you here and now.”

“Oh, an excellent threat against the indestructible vampire, darling,” he replied, rolling his eyes.

“It may not be effective in the long term, but I imagine it’ll be an entirely enjoyable experience in the efforts to shut you up and stop those blasted hands of yours.”

“You mean… _these hands_?” He asked slyly as the offending articles in question snaked their way across her abdomen.

 She wiggled against him, trying to bat him away once more. “Goodness, Nikola, can’t you let a woman bathe in peace?”

He surrendered, relaxing his hands against her. “If you wanted peace, my dear, you really shouldn’t have invited me to join you,” he pointed out, kissing her shoulder.

“A valid point that I’ll have to take into consideration when this situation arises in the future,” she smiled, resting against him.

“Rather romantic, don’t you think?” He asked, dropping his voice to a whisper as he trailed his fingers down her arms, tracing the delicate contours of her wrists. “Sharing a bath in candlelight.”

She smiled and gave a hum of agreement. “Quite romantic indeed. Were you to have included music and wine, I would suspect you had an ulterior motive to seduce me, Mr Tesla.”

He chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Only if you ask me nicely.”

She leaned back to look at him. “How nicely?”

“Very nicely,” he smirked. “But how’s about we hurry this along, yes? If you’ll excuse me, I think I have some music and wine to procure.” He eased out from behind her, getting to his feet. “I’ll be back in a tick with two glasses of red. You can take a moment to compose yourself as you are about to be thoroughly seduced, dearest.”

Laughing, she shot him a bemused look. “Christ almighty, you really do think yourself to be thoroughly impressive?”

He gave her a cheeky grin, clambering out of the bathtub. “Helen, my dear, I think you’ll find I am indeed utterly imp-” He broke off with a yelp, landing on the floor with a loud wet smack.

Helen hurried to the edge of the tub, peering down at him. There, he lay prone in a puddle of the bathwater she had ousted, arms splayed outwards. She bit her lip.

“Don’t you say a word,” he warned, waving a lazy hand towards her, his eyes still shut.

She ducked her head from view as she erupted into peals of laughter at him, the sight proving altogether too much to take.

“Stop it.”

She rocked back in the tub, shaking with laughter. “You-you –”

“Helen, I mean it.” He gave a groan as he sat up, gingerly stretching out.

She gave a delighted snigger, propping herself against the edge of the bathtub to grin at him. “Brilliant.”

“Oh, I’m delighted you’ve finally acknowledged my brilliance, darling,” he muttered. “Perhaps next time you might marvel at my astounding intellect rather than taking pleasure in my physical injuries.”

She merely gave him a wide smile in response, flicking her fingers through the water, sending droplets splashing against his pouting face.

“Have you no sympathy for me?”

“Not an ounce, you miserable bastard.”

He got to his feet with a groan. “I feel that I ought to remind you that this is entirely your fault,” he gestured at the puddles.

“If I were to take responsibility for the upturned bathwater, Mr Tesla, I feel it prudent to remind you that my actions were entirely to result of the provocation of a rather disruptive vampire,” she reminded him sternly, belaying her words with a smug smile as she settled back against the tub.

“Disruptive? My dear, I think you ought to reconsider your choice of words. Perhaps innovative? Or charming? Handsome, an obvious alternative, almost too obvious that it bears not mentioning. Or perhaps, astou-”

She cut him off with a splash of water to his chest. “Good heavens, man. Shall we consider big-headed? Wholeheartedly arrogant? Desperately in love with the sound of one’s own voice?”

Throwing her a sour look, he sought out a towel. “Dear me, how your words wound me.”

“I’m quite sure you’ll survive despite my best attempts to serve a crippling blow to your ego.” She watched in amusement as his hair took on a rather electrified style as a result of his vigorous towelling.

“Ah, so you purposely set out to hurt me. You are quite the wretch, Miss Magnus.”

“ _Doctor_ Magnus,” she sing-songed in reminder, stretching her legs out through the water, watching the water run off her skin in rivulets. The sight of it, combined with the accompanying splashes gave her a shock. Nikola’s witty riposte was lost to the sudden rushing sound of water. Why was he still talking? Could he not hear the water rising, pushing towards them and filling the tub… The tub? No, no it was lapping against the hull, its pressure eliciting groans and creaks of despair from the yet-young iron, its paint still fresh…The warm water around her seemed to freeze in an instant, chilling her limbs and paralysing her from movement. As it rose steadily around her, up her chest, tipping precariously at her chin and threatening to overcome her, she found she could not move to escape it. The water was rising and rising, she was going to drown… It was coming for –

“ _Helen_.”

She jumped, breaking out of her reverie. Nikola was knelt at her side, hand resting on her shoulder, his brow furrowed in concern.

“S-sorry. Sorry, I’m not quite sure…” she trailed off, surprised to find herself short of breath as her heart thumped heavily in her chest. She was almost certain it would defy the rules of physiology she had long held faith in, and burst right out of her chest, such was the strength of its tempo.

“You were staring at the water,” Nikola told her, ever so gently.

“Yes. I-I’m afraid I was rather lost in my thoughts.”

He hummed, reaching up to brush his knuckles softly against her temple. “What were those thoughts? Perhaps if we were able to pinpoint the exact effect the water has on you, we can begin to tackle it?”

She shook her head. “I’m not certain, it’s all rather…”

“Do you still see water? Other than that in which you are currently sitting in, of course.”

“Yes. Sort of. It’s almost as though… as though the bathwater became seawater, the tub became the ship, and we were lost at sea, awaiting the waves to overcome us.”

“We?”

“I was still vaguely aware of your presence, but all I could think was that I was unable to move, unable to fight the oncoming water.”

“I see. So, all of your senses are very much under siege when you have these…experiences?”

“Very much so,” she replied quietly. She glanced down at the water and let out a sigh. “Nikola, I think I’d quite like to get out now.”

“Of course.”

Stepping out of the water offered her a greater degree of relief than she had anticipated, and she wasted no time in drying before heading into the living room clad one of her newly purchased nightgowns, and a blanket draped around her shoulders. Nikola had hovered anxiously around her until she firmly dismissed him to dress himself in something more substantial than the towel slung around his hips. Upon his return, he sat down on the couch beside her, busying himself as he poured wine for each of them.

“Perhaps,” he began slowly, setting a glass of wine before her, “a degree of research is required? In order to remedy your current situation, we could examine the factors which elicit your reactions, which of course must also be appraised. We ought to look at exactly how you’re reacting and why, and then we can begin to devise ways to tackle the problem.” He shrugged. “That’s obviously one avenue of thought."

“Yours is a rather hands-on approach. I thought it might be best to push on, try and work past it rather than obsessing upon it. I would be content to carry on as usual and not to dwell too much in examining the issue.”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Your solution is to simply ignore it?”

“Does that bother you?”

“I’m rather surprised. It seems to be that this is a particularly difficult problem to merely ignore and hope that it solves itself.”

Helen gave a soft sigh, turning the glass in her hands. “I am not saying that it will solve itself, Nikola. What I intend to do is carry on with my life, rather than allowing it to hold me back. In the aftermath of everything that happened with John, we simply ran and hid ourselves away. And while we may have needed the temporary reprieve from the world, I’m not entirely sure it was the best course of action, and that it didn’t do more harm than good.” When a look of hurt flashed across Nikola’s face at that, she was quick to rest a steady hand on his. “It wasn’t all bad, naturally. I am more concerned with the months all of us lost from our work, and the effect it all had upon James. I left him unchecked in a time of great difficulty, and retreated into myself. And partly into you, I suppose. I would really rather not repeat the experience, Nikola.”

He nodded in understanding, turning his palm upwards to interlock their fingers. “Of course. That is entirely understandable. So, you intend to carry on as usual? You don’t wish to attempt to tackle these fears of water and these apparently persistent night terrors? I fear these particular issues are not going to simply resolve themselves.”

She sighed once more, pulling her hand from his grasp to run it soothingly over her brow. “I’m sure it will pass, Nikola. Such things often do.”

“You were unable to sleep for days when we finally left London, Helen,” he reminded her softly. “You laid awake with fear that John would appear, and you only found rest with intervention.”

Helen bristled. “Yes, thank you for that reminder.”

“I am merely saying that it took my sleeping at your side and the construction of the shield in order to–”

“Surprisingly, Nikola, I don’t require an in-depth analysis of past events. I hear you quite clearly. You feel I’m not to task to move through this. And you think that you need to swoop in and save me from my demons, no?”

He scoffed. “That is outrageous.”

“Is it? I understand that you were instrumental in getting me through everything with John, but Nikola, I can cope on my own. Allow me the freedom to do that at least.”

“You feel that I am impinging upon your freedom? Helen, I merely want to help.”

“You want to scrutinise every aspect of this, you’re practically salivating at the chance to examine every detail as though I were the subject of your latest scientific endeavour.”

“I wish to help you push past this, Helen. You speak as though I have some unsavoury intentions and wish to delight in your torment. You couldn’t be further from the truth, my love. I do not delight in it at all, but instead I endeavour to relieve your turmoil in any way I can. Please, why are you fighting this? You cannot simply continue to ignore these problems.”

“The very last thing I wish to do, Nikola, is to traverse through every detail of this experience in the hopes that we might find a solution. There’s absolutely no guarantee that we would be successful, and it may be all for naught!”

He shook his head incredulously. “Why on earth are you fighting me on this? You’re being irrational, Helen.”

She slammed her glass down on the coffee table sending wine sloshing out over the rim, its stain splashing across the surface of the table in an imitation of blood. “Of _course_ I am being irrational, you pig-headed twit! It’s my bloody right to be irrational right now, to hell with bloody rational thought. I am absolutely scared out of my wits, so forgive me if I don’t acquiesce to a post mortem of my every passing thought and impulse!”

He faltered, and reached for her hands, surprised when she acquiesced and allowed him to grasp hers in his. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to upset you.”

She let out a brittle sigh. “I know, I know. I’m sorry too, I’m trying not to get so bloody worked up but—”

“Ah, don’t apologise. Please.”

Meeting his gaze briefly, she gave a curt nod.

“Of course you’re scared, it’s perfectly natural given the circumstances. But I am sure we can face these fears of yours head on as we always do when confronted with a challenge, darling.”

She shook her head wryly. “Therein lies the rub, Niko. I must admit, I’m rather too afraid to face them at all.”

“Ah, well, you see, that’s the genius of my solution.”

“Oh, here we go. Go on then, do please enlighten me,” she replied in mock-derision.

“Why, we will simply face them together. Surely you realise that we can overcome anything once we combine our efforts. You and I, dear Helen, are simply undefeatable.”

She gave him a slow smile at that, and rather lost for words, moving to cup his cheek in her hand.

Nikola seemed to divine the unspoken meaning of her action, as he pressed a soft kiss to her palm, reaching up to cover her hand with his own.


End file.
